


Arrow Shot

by Woofemus



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Sister-Sister Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 04:22:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1844263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Woofemus/pseuds/Woofemus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Noire, and trying to deal with the knowledge that her father destroyed the world. Somehow, that means fitting Lucina into the equation and reconciling with Morgan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Arrow Shot

Noire had always been a weak child, that much she knew. Weak both physically and in mind, it was something that plagued her entire life.

She only had the stamina to do simple chores and even then, compared to the slack everyone else had to do to make up for her, it didn't feel enough. She hated that even if she wanted to help, her body would always end up being too frail. At least Brady could help heal with his staff. What did Noire have? Only being the sharpest eye around, but that didn't mean much when she was useless outside of her archery.

“Noire?” She startled, letting out a squeak upon realizing that she was no longer alone. She turned around, clutching her talisman close to her.

Lucina brushed the twig that got stuck in her hair, grimacing as it pulled some hairs. When she turned back to Noire, she wore a polite smile.

“L-Lucina?! What are you doing here?” Noire couldn't help but be incredulous. Lucina was always in a war council or... doing whatever she did. She was a dear comrade but Noire admitted that they had... shared very few conversations. Noire only considered her a friend in the loosest definition of the term.

“I'm not being allowed to help out at camp,” Lucina only said with a sheepish smile. “Severa insisted on it and she pushed me away. I decided to do a patrol instead.”

“O-oh,” Noire said, unable to think of anything else. Lucina nodded, and that was it.

They remained silent, an outcome Noire predicted. Really, how did someone talk to the _Exalt_ , of all people? Even if she was Exalt only in name, Lucina had always been their leader that it was strange to think of her otherwise. She was everything Noire wasn't, physically capable and the most strong-willed of them all. She was the one who made the hard decisions that kept them all alive even if they didn't agree with it. All in all, it was completely strange that Lucina would talk to her...

Noire's father was the one that killed Lucina's, after all.

Belatedly, she realized Lucina had already left her side. No doubt the princess was feeling the same heaviness that Noire always felt. That was fine. Noire knew she was weak but the last thing she wanted was anyone's pity, least of all, Lucina's. She was left alone with her thoughts, pulling her knees up with a sigh.

It surprised her then, when suddenly Lucina burst out of the bushes, serious and alert.

“Risen,” Lucina only said, pointing with her head.

Noire instantly sat up, trying to see what Lucina was pointing at. She had to keep her gaze straight but she saw it, the corpse shuffling through the forest, cleverly hidden by the thick foliage. “A-ah!” Her hand immediately went to her talisman, trying to calm her nerves down.

“Come, we must get back to camp.”

“O-okay.” Noire stood up, eyes scanning everywhere as she became alert. “Was that the only one you found?”

“Yes, though you know how Risen can easily swarm us. We cannot take risks with the them. Let's get back to camp and we'll move out.” Lucina made to turn around, but a hand on her arm stopped her.

“But everyone's already so tired from trekking up the mountain and then to suddenly move again...” Noire mumbled. They only barely managed to settle down and get some rest this morning, and to suddenly relocate again... she wasn't sure if they could handle the next wave of Risen if they didn't get any rest soon. She remembered Morgan sleeping so soundly in their tent and didn't want to wake her...

Noire couldn't help with anything except shooting Risen down. So this time, she nodded decisively, still staring at the Risen. “I'll shoot it down.”

“Noire?” Lucina paused, turning around to look at her curiously. A second passed before her eyes narrowed in what Noire had come to recognize as her face when she made split decisions, glancing between the Risen and camp. “Can you? In one strike,” Lucina asked. Noire had understood later that it wasn't because Lucina doubted her, but because she needed her to be absolutely certain that she could shoot the Risen down. Still, it made her hackles rise. She prided herself on her archery, and no matter what their complicated relationship, being doubted by the princess herself...

“Blood and thunder!” Noire said with a snarl. “This Risen might as well be nothing but a practice target! I'll rid you of your pitiful existence now!” She picked up her bow, nocking an arrow. Her aim was true and straight as it flew toward the Risen. The Risen went down and in the next second, a puff of smoke rising from where it once was.

“You got it!” Lucina said, amazed. “I could barely even see it from that far away. Amazing!”

Noire let out a deep breath, her adrenaline running out now. “It... wasn't much,” she mumbled, her cheeks turning pink at Lucina's praise. She shot a glance to Lucina right when the princess did. They both looked away, suddenly remembering the present.

“We should get back to camp.” Lucina's voice was quiet but it boomed through Noire's mind like a clap of thunder. Lucina turned around when Noire said nothing, boots crunching the dead leaves underneath them. Noire wordlessly followed after her Exalt a moment later.

 

* * *

 

 

She wasn't sure how old she was when she met Lucina. Their fathers had been such good friends that they'd have probably been introduced as soon as Noire could walk and speak her name. Probably even earlier than that, since Lucina was older, not that Noire could remember and Lucina gave no indication of it either.

She remembered thinking that Lucina had such a strange eye and that it frankly unnerved her to have them staring at her for a long time. Lucina inherited her mother's boisterous spirit but she tried so hard to be solemn like her father. But children were often restless and Lucina was no exception, princess or not, and she always wanted to practice the sword, running all along the courtyard under Frederick's careful eye. Sometimes her cousin was there, always so loud and shouting at the top of his lungs.

Noire was often sick though and couldn't join in their activities for a long time, always sitting out. It suited her the same, because she felt so out of place as she was the only one who wasn't related to them. Sometimes, she wished she had their strength and vigor, to be able to run through the castle hallways without a care in the world.

Lucina tried to sit next to her and here she'd look as if she took after her father more, sitting so still and listening intently to Noire as they talked about anything in particular. Noire didn't think she had anything much to say, other than what her mother was researching and what it had done to her. Lucina's face was always knit together as Noire told her stories.

She didn't know why Lucina always looked so concerned or why she always looked troubled when Noire described the hexes her mother casted on her. It was all normal for Noire and she couldn't understand why Lucina always said that it wasn't fair for her mother to do so many weird things to her.

Lucina liked to talk about the castle and the people in her life. She always admired her parents, her father for being the Exalt, and her mother for riding out to protect their kingdom. She liked to talk about Frederick and how stern he was, trying to make sure she wasn't tripping over pebbles. She liked Aunt Lissa because her aunt always made sure to sneak them pastries that they could share with the others and always pretended to look the other way when she caught them sneaking in the kitchen pantries for more.

Noire couldn't join in their outdoor activities, but she was as guilty as them for stealing the sweets from the kitchens and deftly evading the cooks. It was always Owain who had gotten them caught all the time, with his boisterous boasting that “they had defeated the evildoers who wanted to ruin snack time” and Maribelle would always find them shortly after. Her father always laughed at them, calling them all an army of mini-Gaius and even Chrom laughed at that. She couldn't understand what he meant until she finally met the man in question, an old friend of their parents, a sucker in his mouth and his daughter would later inherit the same habit.

When Morgan was born later, Noire spent most of her time taking care of her sister, as Lucina was often doing with Kjelle, decreasing their time together. When they did meet together, it was commiseration over their younger sisters.

Morgan had been a mostly quiet baby, always following someone around, eager to take after them. It made Noire paranoid sometimes, to have a second shadow following after her, because _she_ was used to doing the shadowing after her mother. Noire became even more alert and nervous.

She wanted to be a good older sister to Morgan, but their mother continued to practice her hexes on Noire. Most of the side effects of the hexes always gave her runny noses and she'd be sniffling the whole day, feeling too dreadful to play with Morgan. And even then, her younger sister always brought her tissues or messily wiped her nose for her. She tried not to show any weakness but somehow Morgan had developed an innate sense when Noire was cursed, always ready with a box of tissues. Noire used to hate being hexed, but better her than Morgan, she thought.

Still, she wondered what Morgan thought, of having a weak older sister. Maybe it would explain why Morgan would eventually try to kill her.

 

 

* * *

 

“Noire!”

The sudden shout of her name made her freeze up, until she recognized who called her. Lucina blinked at her, perplexed. “Did... did I scare you?”

“N-no?” Lucina looked at her strangely now. Noire broke her gaze, trying not to look nervous, which she probably did. “I mean, I just... startle easily. Is... there something wrong?”

“No, there's nothing wrong.”

“... huh?”

“I just realized that we... don't really talk, do we?” Lucina gave her another strange look. “You used to come to the castle a lot. I find it strange that we do not converse more.”

“Oh!” Noire laughed nervously. “You... you were always running off with Kjelle and Owain. I couldn't keep up with you so I always sat out.”

“... ah.” Lucina's brow furrowed. “So we always left you out...”

“N-no!” Noire shook her head furiously. “I just... I just didn't have the energy you all had. My body's weak.”

“Ah.” Lucina looked deep in thought. Noire glanced around, wondering if there was some way for her to leave politely. The more she looked at Lucina, the more that guilty feeling returned.

They had all heard the rumors that Chrom was killed by his best friend. Even if none of them knew the truth, Noire wondered how Lucina could think to talk to someone who was the daughter of her father's murderer, especially knowing how attached she was.

“Noire, would you like to accompany me for patrol?” Lucina's voice shot through her mind.

“What?” She gave the princess a confused look. “Why me?”

“You have a really good eye, Noire. It would be a shame to not use it.” For some reason, Lucina looked uncertain as she continued. “And I'd like to be able to converse with you more, to make up for lost time. But if you do not wish to do so then you are free to decline.”

“Oh, no!” Noire shook her head. “I just...” There seemed to be no polite way to refuse Lucina other than outright refusal. If she had said she was tired, Lucina would feel guilty about asking her in the first place and most likely never ask again in the future for fear of hurting Noire's feelings. Lucina was always so considerate but Noire didn't want pity, least of all Lucina's. “I guess I can.”

Lucina was pleased at her answer, nodding. “Alright, let's go.”

It was... awkward, Noire had to say, as they continued to patrol through the woods. Since agreeing to the patrol, they hadn't said anything to each other. Noire dedicated herself to keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings, though she was sure Lucina's senses were sharper than hers.

It was maybe after Noire swore they passed the same tree that Lucina finally spoke. “Say, Noire, do you have any dreams?”

“... dreams?” Noire felt her brow furrow, wondering what Lucina was asking of her. “Do you mean like at night when I go to sleep or–”

“No, I mean... ambitions, goals,” Lucina waved her hand in a vague manner, “things of that sort.”

“Oh.” Lucina looked at her so expectantly that Noire felt sorry for what she had to say next. “No... not really... I don't think so.”

“No?” Noire suddenly felt ashamed at Lucina's questioning tone, mumbling to herself.

“I mean... we're already trying to hard to survive today. I just... want to keep Morgan safe. I don't really think about... anything else other than that...” Noire's voice trailed off, letting out a quiet sigh. Compared to everyone else, Noire felt like she was the only only drifting through life, unable to do anything else.

“There's nothing wrong with that.” Lucina stopped walking, turning to her. She made a pained face, bringing her eyes down. “I... I worry about the future too. I want to be able to rebuild the Halidom, but how can we do that if we can barely survive the present?” Though the words were whispered, Noire felt as if Lucina had shouted them instead.

“L-Lucina?” It was one thing to hear the others talk so negatively about the future, but to hear it from _Lucina_ , it felt as if the world really was ending. Lucina clenched her hands into fists.

“I want to be able to save everyone. I want the world to become peaceful again. I'd like to see flowers blooming all over our hills as they once used to.”

Even when Lucina stopped speaking, Noire remained silent, staring at Lucina questioningly. When Lucina turned to look out at the field before them, Noire followed her gaze.

The only grass they crushed under their feet were dead grass. The trees they passed through no longer had their strong branches and their leaves were an off color, left barren and a former shadow of their strength. The air always smelled of death and destruction. Risen had long ago defiled everything in their path, and even Noire knew that there was a sadness in them already having gotten used to this wrecked environment.

Lucina's face was soft though, _hopeful_ , as she looked out at the desolate landscape. She closed her eyes, and smiled, dreaming of the future. Noire was both stunned and captivated. How could someone look at all the emptiness around them and think that there was any good left in the world? But if there was someone who could, it was Lucina.

“Noire... do you think I can do it? After all of this is over, do you think I can revive the land again?” Lucina's voice was quiet, barely a whisper.

“H-huh?” Noire couldn't help but be bewildered, wondering why Lucina was asking _her_ , of all people. “Don't... you have to worry about being the Exalt?”

“The Exalt...” Lucina pushed her lips together, staring pensively at the horizon now. Noire felt as if she said something wrong and immediately shook her head.

“I-I mean, you could, but... it'd be hard, wouldn't it?”

“No, you're right. It would be.”

Lucina's face looked so somber that Noire felt even more bad about bringing up the fact that Lucina was Exalt. But she... was, even if only in name. The Halidom was too scattered and powerless for Lucina to take command at this moment.

But what hadn't faded from Lucina's eyes were that determined stare, the one that held out hope that she would be able to overcome everything. When she turned to Noire, she was faced with that overwhelming hope. Lucina smiled at her, but she didn't have the same radiance that she had earlier, when she talked about the land.

Noire understood it then, why her father had been so blindly devoted to Chrom.

How couldn't she feel the same, at seeing Lucina's brilliance and grace in that smile as she laid bare all the hopes she had for the disastrous future they were living through. Noire suddenly felt that if there was one other duty she had other than to protect Morgan, it would be to ensure that Lucina lived no matter what. Lucina had the resolve to throw away everything to save the world if it meant damning herself, but that was a double-edged sword. How could the world survive afterward without someone like Lucina to guide them? Lucina was... Lucina...

But Noire could never understand why her father betrayed Chrom.

 

* * *

 

 

Noire and her family lived close to the capital but away enough so her mother wouldn't be bothered by nosy neighbors. It was good, seeing as her mother was Plegian and relations between Ylisse and Plegia never got better. There were still skeptics who were against her father having such a high position of power because they didn't know if he was Ylissian or not.

Her father was often away for work at the castle. There were always numerous assassination attempts, on both Exalt Chrom and her father. Exalt Chrom was heavily injured in one several years ago and it was deemed too dangerous for him to lead the armies anymore. Her father was always full of slyness and cunning and always used the traps that were sprung on him to ambush the other party. But Noire knew that he had always blamed Chrom's injured state on himself all the time.

The bond between Chrom and her father always used to confuse her. The books she'd read always said that unshakable bonds were only formed between those who were true loves. Noire used to wonder why her father was so devoted to Chrom just as her mother was devoted to him. It used to make her feel sad because she'd think that her father liked Chrom more than her mother, and that was why her mother had taken to researching hexes and experimenting on Noire in her loneliness.

He very rarely came home, always afraid that assassins would find them even if her mother insisted that she would curse anything that came even a feet of their house. He always said no, but truthfully, her mother had every right to be paranoid, being surrounded by hostile Ylissians and having to be on the lookout for assassins. It was amazing she retained her sanity for so long. Noire had come to respect her mother in that regard.

When Morgan was born, her father tried to make more of an effort to be there, now that he had two children. His duties still took him out for an extended amount of time as his mind and abilities were needed now more than ever as Ylisse faced both the threat of Plegia and Valm. But the times he came home were the happiest times Noire could remember, bouncing Morgan and Noire across his knees.

Her mother still continued her experiments and research, but Noire noticed they had decreased since her sister was born. Maybe it was because Morgan had inherited the best of their father's traits, his bright smile and terrifying capacity to learn everything. She was always eager to learn anything and everything and was gifted with both types of magic. Noire took too much after her mother, already predisposed to the dark magics her mother had than the natural elements of her father. Her sickly demeanor from her mother's hexes also robbed her of any confidence to do anything. Morgan was like the sunshine in their dark lives that even her mother couldn't help but grow softer toward. Noire wanted to be the best sister she could.

Then her father destroyed the world.

 

 

* * *

 

“Morgan, you're not eating your carrots,” Noire said with a frown as she eyed her sister's plate, “don't waste–”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Morgan cut her off, waving her fork, “I'll feed them to Yarne later.”

“ _Morgan!_ ” Her sister groaned at Noire's tone.

“Can't I just skip them? Just this once?”

“You said that yesterday,” Noire countered with a sigh. She raised her napkin to wipe at Morgan's mouth, ignoring her sister's protests. “You need all the nutrients you can get right now.” She looked down at her plate and moved the section of potatoes she hadn't eaten yet. “Here.”

“W-wait! That's yours!” Morgan looked at her with a pout. “Stop treating me like a kid!”

“But you are.” Noire blinked at her.

“I'm eleven years old now!” Morgan said, scowling. Noire couldn't help the smile as she patted her little sister's head affectionately.

“I was taller than you when I was your age.”

“... really?” Morgan looked down at herself. She looked over at where Kjelle was, staring up at Lucina as they chatted. “Maybe it's a little sister thing.”

Noire couldn't help the snort of laughter that escaped, snickering to herself. “I'm being serious here!”

“Don't... don't let Kjelle hear you,” Noire managed to say between her giggling.

“Don't let Kjelle hear what?” Noire nearly fell over, sputtering when Lucina peered down at her curiously.

“Foolish mortal do you dare – wait, no,” Noire took a deep gulp, trying to calm herself down. “I... um.”

Morgan blinked at her sister's strange behavior before she turned to Lucina. “Hi!”

“Hello, Morgan,” Lucina greeted, smiling indulgently at her. Sometimes, Noire felt that Lucina was more of an older sister to Morgan than she herself was. She couldn't help the pang of jealousy, especially when Morgan grinned widely at her.

“Did you wanna talk to Sis?”

“H-huh?!” Noire let out a squeak. She tried to shake her head, staring hard at Morgan. _Don't leave me alone, don't leave me alone with Lucina, don't –_

“I guess I'll go hang out with Nah then.” Morgan stood up, dusting herself, waving to the two as she ran off. Noire had to try not to groan, until her eyes fell to the bowl Morgan left behind.

“S-she didn't finish her carrots!” But she ate her potatoes, Noire noticed. Sighing to herself, she picked up her sister's bowl and finished the rest of it. Yarne was no where to be seen anyway.

“Morgan is certainly very energetic, isn't she?” Lucina murmured as she watched the young girl run off. She turned back to Noire and gestured next to her. “Do you mind if I sit next to you?”

 _Sort of_ , Noire wanted to say but she shook her head instead. “N-no, I... I don't mind.” Lucina looked at her strangely and sat down slowly, as if waiting for Noire to retract her words. When she didn't, the princess spoke again.

“It's been a nice day, hasn't it?”

“... I guess.” Noire looked at her out of the corner of her eye. “Not training with Kjelle?”

“Ah, I did that earlier. She's training with Cynthia and Severa now. I wanted to take a break.”

“... oh.” Noire really didn't have anything else to say. It wasn't as if she was strong enough to train with either of them.

Lucina let out a sigh, glancing at her. “You and Morgan... are very close.” Noire turned to her, raising a brow. Lucina looked as if she wanted to continue speaking, so Noire waited. “Recently... I feel as if Kjelle has been distant with me.”

Noire didn't know what to say so she only answered in a questioning hum. Kjelle was always... strange, to Noire. The girl was far too headstrong and prideful, a sharp contrast to Lucina, who was just as stubborn but willing to compromise if she had to.

“Little sisters... are odd,” Noire could only say. Lucina let out a giggle.

“I suppose that is one way to see it.” But she was silent again, thinking to herself.

“Is there something she's doing?” Noire asked, after a moment.

“No... well... it feels as if she's trying harder than before?”

“Kjelle always tries too hard... I think.”

“She does, but it feels as if she's... trying to make up for something,” Lucina said with a sigh, “I don't know what goes through her head anymore.”

Noire wondered what it was like, to have Lucina as an older sister. There was no mistaking the adoration Kjelle had for her older sister, but everyone saw how it always made Kjelle push herself, always shouting that she had to get stronger to protect Lucina and worked hard to do so.

“Noire... do you think I'm overbearing?”

Noire nearly fell to the ground. She didn't, but she turned to look at Lucina in disbelief. “W-what?” Lucina waited for her answer and now Noire had to think of what to say. “I don't think so?”

“Really?” Lucina looked so doubtful of herself that Noire had second guesses about her words.

But this was _Lucina_ , the person who connected them all. Maybe she was starting to feel the strain of being their unspoken leader after all of their parents and adults were gone. Noire wondered how that felt like, to be the leader of all their friends, to be responsible for their lives as much as her own.

“Lucina... we all look up to you, you know? You're the one who keeps us all together.”

Lucina hummed, her mouth a thin line. “I know, I just...” she let out a sigh, running a hand through her hair. “Kjelle expects me to be strong all the time, and I don't want to appear weak in front of her, especially since our parents are gone... but I worry that perhaps Kjelle has been pushing herself too hard lately.”

“Kjelle?” Noire blinked. “She... always trains hard, doesn't she?”

“She does... but I sense a sort of restlessness to her that I haven't felt. I don't know what it is.”

“Can't you ask her?”

“I could, but there's a certain pride to Kjelle. She believes that all weakness should be covered. If I were to ask her... I feel as if I offend her.”

“... oh.” Noire was only happy that Morgan wasn't like that. Lucina let out another sigh.

“It's why I cannot afford to be weak, because my sister will begin to get the wrong ideas.” Though Lucina's voice was firm, Noire saw her hands trembling, an action that was instinctual to Noire and one she recognized Morgan doing often.

“I think... it's okay sometimes,” Noire mumbled, “Morgan sees all the bad sides of me and she doesn't think any less of me... I hope.”

“But not for Kjelle. She believes strength is everything.”

“That might be why she doesn't like me,” Noire muttered, her brows knitting together.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” Noire quickly said. “Strength... isn't really everything.” Noire kicked the dirt as she spoke. “I mean, I'd be more worried about what would happen if you tried to bottle everything up!”

“I agree with you.” Despite her words though, Lucina had a frown on her face. “But it is... hard... to even be able to admit that you are not as strong as you think you are.”

“... is it?” Noire scratched her cheek. “I know I'm not strong and I always fall behind everyone because I'm always so sick all the time, and despite my best efforts, it doesn't seem as if anything actually improves...” she let out a sigh. “I think the only thing that makes me stand out is my other personality can make up for what I can't do normally.”

Lucina blinked strangely at her. “Other personality?” she muttered under her breath, before shaking her head. “Noire, you're selling yourself too short, don't you think so? You're the only archer we have, and you've been a great boon so far.”

“... am I?” Noire mumbled, rubbing her neck. “Compared to you though, I'm not... really anything special.”

“Me?” Lucina blinked at her. “I'm hardly anything special.” Noire felt the need to refute that, though she doubted Lucina would listen to her. “I'm only merely someone who was born to the Exalted line. Owain is also part of the Exalted line as well, you know.”

“Owain... is special,” Noire mumbled.

“See, you can consider Owain so, but not me?” Lucina smiled wryly. “Then, I could say you're the daughter of the famed tactician of the Shepherds!”

“N-no! Not me.” Noire looked down. “That's... Morgan. She's the one who really wanted to study the strategies and tactics. I didn't get anything from him.” Noire pushed down the sudden pang of guilt that shot through her.

“Then you've your father's sharp eye for details,” Lucina easily said, glancing at her. Noire only stared at her incredulously.

“I...” she let out a sigh then, “Lucina, I'm trying to talk myself down, but you're making that really hard.”

“Ah, I apologize,” Lucina said, though she looked anything but, smiling at her. Noire smiled at her as well, laughing softly.

“Lucina...” Noire mumbled, speaking seriously now, “When things get hard... you... can always speak to me, if you... need to. You shouldn't always keep everything bottled in.” Noire's voice began to get softer, feeling embarrassed as she continued to speak. “I mean, it doesn't even have to be me! You could speak to anyone else! I'm sure... the others could offer a better ear than me.”

“Noire...” Lucina looked as if she was studying Noire. She smiled faintly then and reached down to grasp Noire's hand. Noire tried not to flush too much at the sudden contact. Lucina's hand was calloused and though Noire's were as well, she felt that Lucina's hand was harder than her own. “I enjoy your company. I regret that we were unable to spend more time before... before...” Lucina let out a breath, blowing it through her mouth.

“We'll be like our fathers, wouldn't we?” Lucina suddenly said, her smile turning wry. Noire let out an uneasy sigh.

“I won't be able to help you with any strategies or planning though...” Noire said. Lucina's hand only held hers tighter.

“I think what our fathers had wasn't a bond that was depended on each others abilities, but one that was made through mutual trust. That sort of bond, I believe that's what got our fathers through so many predicaments,” Lucina spoke so fondly that Noire tried to push the unsettled feeling that shot through her away. She looked down at their hands.

“Lucina... I won't... I won't betray you. I swear... I wouldn't...” Noire whispered, clenching Lucina's hand tightly. Lucina squeezed back, murmuring softly.

“Thank you,” Lucina only said.

 

* * *

 

 

She had seen the Mark before, when she was younger.

She wondered why her father always wore a glove on his hand or took great pains to hiding his hand even when showering. But she hadn't grown up to be the archer of the army for nothing, and she noticed the Mark on his hand one night when she and him took a bath together.

It was his first time being back in a long time. Noire, so young and lonely before Morgan was born, wanted to spend as much time as she wanted with him. He easily gave in under those conditions and even her mother let them have their time alone. Noire wanted to make the most of all the time they had now before he left.

That was when she noticed it.

It was so distinct that the only way she could forget it was if she was hexed to forget about it. It was purple, like the dark magic her mother practiced, except... _darker_. What she remembered were the eyes, as if they glared straight into her soul, pulsating... throbbing...

She inhaled sharply and quickly looked away right as her father looked at her. It was a beautiful mark, as if burned into her father's hand, like the Brand on Chrom's shoulder and Lucina's eye. Did her father have some divine right like Chrom? Did that mean she had some of that in her blood? The thought made her excited but she wondered why her dad hid the mark.

When she looked back at her father, he had already wrapped the bandages on his hand.

“Father, why do you wear the bandage?” she asked later, after they had gotten out, “Wouldn't it make cleaning hard? Doesn't your hand smell?” He laughed at her words.

“It's an old scar and I need to wrap it because it hurts sometimes,” he'd explained, an easy smile on his face. “Yes, it does smell, and I wouldn't want you to get that horrible smell on you! Your mother would hex me to get rid of it! She hates the smell too.”

“Oh.” Noire had accepted his answer then. She didn't like the idea of her father being hurt, nor her mother hexing their father, though she always heard her mother threatening to do whenever he had to leave for an extended amount of time. She didn't mind the curses and hexes her mother tested on her, as long as they weren't going to her father. Any further intentions of asking him to show his hand were dropped from her mind and replaced with trying to spend as much time as possible with him.

She never forgot the Mark though. Childish curiosity led her to try to find out what it was. Her mother was often experimenting and researching and that left little time for Noire to conduct her own observations, as the books she wanted to look at were where her mother were. The other times, she was sick from illness and whatever curses her mother had tested on her.

When her mother went out to town for more supplies one day, Noire took her chance and sneaked in. She combed through the bookshelf, looking for anything that resembled her father's mark. She didn't exactly find something like it, but she found something that resembled the eye she had seen.

The symbols and words were too complicated for her to understand though. She recognized the book mentioning Naga, with the Brand drawn next to it. She wondered why it was crossed out with a heavy red mark. Then she saw it, when she turned the page, a symbol of an eye next to a name.

As she was young, the connection never crossed her mind. Only when she was much older and only had Morgan left did she realize who the true bringer of destruction was.

Everyone else in the camp was already asleep and though she was supposed to be sleeping, she tossed and turned. Finally, she had enough of rolling in bed and sat up, lighting up the lantern to calm her rattled self. Thankfully, Morgan liked to burrow beneath their covers and the sudden illumination of their tent didn't bother her sister in the slightest.

Rifling through the belongings Morgan had brought when they escaped, she chanced upon the same book that she saw several years ago, now one of the last mementos of their mother. Feeling nostalgic, she flipped through it.

Symbols both familiar and unfamiliar came into her vision as she turned the pages. Longing for her mother began to overtake her as she recognized some of the symbols her mother used in her dark magic. One page, strangely enough, had the Brand and she wondered what the was doing in her mother's book about dark magic. She turned the page.

The book dropped from her hands when the memories sprang back up, of her father, of sneaking into her mother's library, and her father's hand –

The Mark of Grima stared accusingly at her.

 

 

* * *

 

“I'm tired.”

“Morgan?” Noire turned to her sister, confused. “Do you need some rest? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you to come with me to hunt.”

“No, it's not that.” Morgan let out a deep sigh. “I'm... just tired. Of everything.” Noire felt her throat go dry. “I can't go on anymore,” she continued in a quiet voice, looking down at herself. “Our parents are dead, everything is so... useless. What difference can a bunch of dumb kids make?”

“Morgan!” Noire hated the defeated look on her sister's face, hated that she couldn't think of anything to convince her sister otherwise. But most of all, she hated that Morgan spoke the words Noire wanted to say.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. _What would our parents say? Well... maybe not Mother... but Father..._

She never told Morgan what she knew about their father. It seemed cruel, knowing how much Morgan idolized him. Noire could understand that feeling all too well. But at least their father left her happy memories.

“Morgan.” Noire's voice was soft. She put her hands on her sister's shoulders. “Our father was a brilliant tactician right?”

“Yes!” Morgan immediately chirped. It always made her smile when anyone mentioned her father. “Father is the greatest!”

“You might be too young to remember... but he always told me there is always victory in everything, even when defeat looks like the only option. As long as we can see it in our minds, we can achieve victory.”

“Really? Father said that?”

“Of course. So don't... don't give up yet.” Though Noire's voice was quiet, her voice was confident, as she always hoped she was. She wanted to give her sister the same confidence her father inspired in her. _Used to inspire_ , a treacherous part of her mind whispered, but she quickly brushed it away.

Morgan was ashamed. “Oh, I'm so sorry. I was so ready to give up. I'm just... I was just tired of everything.”

“I know. I'm... tired of fighting too. But I want to keep hope one day that we'll be able to stop. Just like what Lucina says, hope will never die!”

“Me too.” Morgan reached out to her sister. “Thanks, Sis.” Noire smiled at her.

Before she could speak, the ground rocked, shaking the both of them. “W-what?!” Noire stumbled away as Morgan fell onto her back. “Morgan!”

“Sis!” The ground was shaking too much for either of them to gain a proper foothold. Just as quickly though, the ground stopped shaking.

There was a sudden explosion in front of them.

Noire flew further back from the impact, skidding along the ground. A groan left her lips as she struggled to sit up, trying to ignore all the sudden aches and sores on her body. The fire in front of her made her widen her eyes as she searched desperately. Morgan was no where to be found. “Morgan!” she screamed desperately, scrambling upright. Something caught on the edge of her vision though.

“D-dark fliers?!” Noire gasped. “The Grimleal? Not the Risen?”

“Noire!” Lucina's voice rang out behind her. Noire turned, finding Kjelle and Gerome with her. “Noire.” Lucina was next to her in an instant, pulling her steady. “We need to get out of here now. The Grimleal are coming.”

“Morgan's on the other side!” Noire screamed, shaking her head desperately.

“What?!”

“Noire!” Morgan's cry made all of them snap their heads. Through the fire, Noire could see the Grimleal wrestling with her sister, trying to lock her into a hold. “Sis!”

“Morgan!” Noire clenched her hands so tightly that blood began to flow down. Anger surged through her, burning her blood even hotter than the flames whipping around them. “Blood and thunder! Don't you _dare_ touch my sister!” She was about to charge in when another explosion rocked the ground next to them. Noire fell to her knees, glaring so hatefully that even Gerome paused at her expression. He quickly shook his head though, narrowing his eyes.

“We need to go _now!_ ” Gerome's voice was harsh, cutting through their minds. Noire barely heard him, legs already preparing to lunge through the fire, as she turned to where Morgan was. _Don't take her... don't take her... don't you **dare**..._

Lucina's arms wrapped around her, pulling her against the princess. Noire immediately flailed, trying to push her arms off of her, snarling.

“Fool! If you value your life, you will let me go!” she hissed, struggling against the other girl. “I offer no solace to my allies who dare to place themselves in the way of my wrath!”

“Kjelle!” Lucina shouted, tightening her hold as she looked as her sister for assistance.

Kjelle's eyes darted around, trying to look for any way to make it safely to the other side until she heard Lucina's shout. The fire roared even fiercer. “But, Morgan!” Kjelle's voice, always firm even moreso than her sister, sounded uncharacteristically weak.

“If we hesitate, we'll all die here,” Gerome snapped. They all flinched at his words, until Morgan's cry sounded over them.

“Noire!”

“I'll have the blood of anyone who brings harm to Morgan! Cowards! Let me feast on your souls!” Noire shrieked, clawing at Lucina's hands desperately. Lucina gave a hiss of pain and shouted for her sister again. This time, Kjelle moved to hold her back. Even with the sisters pushing her back, Noire continued to kick and scream, shouting for Morgan. Gerome growled and moved forward, until he had to leap out of the way to avoid an arrow.

“Archers!” he shouted, eyes darting everywhere.

At that moment, Morgan kicked free from the Grimleal holding her and she tumbled away. She scrambled upright and opened her spellbook, the very same one she used to practice with their mother, then Noire after their mother died. The shadows obeyed her command, whirling around her, daring to grab hold of anyone that was close. The Grimleal were held back by the mighty shadows her sister conjured, but they knew it wouldn't last before her sister tired.

Morgan turned to look at her. Noire raised her hand, trying to push against Kjelle and Lucina, her eyes pleading. The fires howled even brighter.

They just needed to get rid of this fire between them and Noire would have her sister again. Then they'd return to camp and Noire could hold her sister in the safety of her own arms. But she needed to scold her too, to warn her to be safe. Only... a little more... and they could...

Morgan was about to leap jump across when the fire roared again, increasing in intensity, flames whirling all around in a giant tornado now. She paused, and looked at Noire.

And Morgan darted into the woods, away from them, Grimleal following after her.

Noire felt her eyes widening as far as they could go, watching her sister's back. Her hand slowly fell as she stared at where Morgan had run off. “Morgan?”

Any second now, Morgan would turn around and grab her hand and laugh with a cheerful 'just kidding!' like one of the pranks she liked to play all the time. “Mor... gan?” She sank down to her knees when Morgan's silhouette continued to shrink, until it finally faded from sight. “Morgan? Hey... you're... only playing right?” Her voice was so weak and pathetic she could barely recognize it had come out of her.

“Let's go!” Noire could barely even hear Lucina's command. “While they're distracted!” Kjelle made a displeased face but took off to clear their path ahead of them.

Lucina's hand wrapped around her waist, pushing her up. Her hand was warm all of a sudden, and she realized Lucina had grabbed a hold of it, tugging her along. She could even barely register that she was moving, going with Lucina's pace if only to not trip. Her mind was completely blank.

_Morgan, Morgan, **Morgan** –_

The roar of the fires were left behind them, along with her sister.

 

* * *

 

 

Noire would have been lying if she had said that she didn't wish that her mother were... more affectionate.

Most of the memories of her mother weren't pleasant, as Noire didn't like to admit. With her father gone most of the time, her mother was free to do at her leisure and her usual dark personality meant it took longer than normal for her to get used to motherhood. She wasn't... overly affectionate unless it was toward her father. Noire wanted to think that her mother was more of a tough love person.

Her mother was never good at expressing her emotions verbally, always so sarcastic and dry, but Noire had learned that while her words weren't honest, her body was. When she was happy, she wore a smirk and her steps were lighter as she walked through their house. When she was mad, her eyes were narrowed coupled with a scowl, glaring at everything. When she was disappointed, she'd mutter to herself a lot. Noire had become very good at reading her mother.

It was hard sometimes, but it was the life Noire knew.

Sometimes, Noire wondered what her father saw in her mother. Her mother's demeanor was dark and brooding, and judging from stories of what her father had told of her, her mother had taken to stalking him from the very start. How did someone so levelheaded like her father fall in love with her mother?

Her father was often away at the capital though, and her mother was terribly lonely. When Noire was older, she realized how hard it had been for her mother, to be married but unable to see her husband as she pleased, to not even know when he would come home, to live in a land that was hostile to her, and then left with a daughter who was frail and sickly.

When Morgan was born, it seemed as it everything was beginning to change. Morgan didn't have Noire's demeanor, and she was always so _eager_. Sometimes, even her energy tired out their mother that she was too tired to even do anything. But having Morgan to watch made her mother become... receptive to the idea of motherhood now.

Morgan was four when they received the news that Exalt Chrom was dead, slain by the Plegians and his tactician was no where to be found.

Noire remembered the wild shrieks of her mother, the anguish and sorrow wrought in them that still haunted her today. She remembered her mother sinking to the ground, laughing hysterically, a sinister aura of darkness whipping around her. She remembered cradling Morgan close to her, trying to hush her sister's cries while failing to hold her own whimpers in. The talisman that used to give her strength hung uselessly on her neck.

For the first time, Noire was genuinely terrified of her mother.

Her mother became obsessed. She wanted to destroy everything in her path. If she didn't, she wanted to inflict as much pain as possible. Humans were only lucky that her only targets were the new monsters called the Risen, dead bodies come up to haunt them all. Her mother viewed them all the same, as bugs for her to crush under her feet and magic.

They never received any news of her father afterward and Noire was always afraid that they would come across him as a Risen, shambling toward them, his form grotesque and decaying. She'd always wake up in a cold sweat, trying not to wake up Morgan, who clung to her in her sleep. Their mother became wrapped in her magic, and Noire needed to figure out how to keep Morgan safe in case her mother couldn't. However much Noire didn't want to admit it when she was young, she was always ready for the possibility that her mother wouldn't always be there to protect them.

Morgan was five when it happened.

Risen had caught them unaware and now they were running, as far as they could. Her mother had run ahead of them, trying to clear out the path for them. She could feel her mother's dark magic seeping all around them. It comforted her as she ran, holding tightly to her sister's hand as her other hand gripped the bow slung across her shoulders. Her talisman swung wildly on her neck, acutely aware of it beating against her chest. Morgan's other hand held their tomes of dark magic, trying not to drop them as they swayed dangerously from their running. Noire was proficient in them, having taken after their mother, and Morgan had begun to learn as well, but she didn't want her sister to be practicing magic on the Risen.

The Risen rumbled behind them, moaning as they scrambled to catch up. They smelled asbolutely rotting and disgusting and Noire had to fight the urge to throw up.

And then Morgan's hand slipped out of Noire's as she tripped, sliding across the dirt.

“Morgan!” Noire stumbled back, trying to drag her to her feet as quick as possible. But one of the Risen had made a mad sprint and now it was getting closer. Noire pushed Morgan behind her and though her hands shook violently, she aimed her bow straight at the Risen.

“Stay... stay away!” she screamed as she fired her arrow, watching it land straight into the chest of the Risen. It jerked the Risen for a slight moment before it continued charging. Noire let out a shriek but managed to get another arrow ready, shooting it into the Risen. She didn't know how many arrows she used until the Risen fell into a heap onto the ground, disappearing in a puff of smoke.

Noire panted, trying to calm herself down. Morgan tugged on her arm.

“Sis... it's... it's gone,” Morgan only said, breathing just as heavily as her. Noire nodded, grabbing Morgan's hand and continuing to run. Her body was tired, and she wanted nothing more than to stop. Her vision blurred and she felt a lightness to her.

“Sis!” Morgan tried to hold her upright. Noire collapsed, breathing heavily.

“No... not now... the Risen...” Noire mumbled, pushing herself up even as her vision swam. “I'm... okay.” She pushed herself up, shaking her head. It made her vision worse. “We... need to get to Mother... ah...”

The stampede of the Risen made Noire turn around, and she realized they were too close for either of them to run away now.

 _No... Morgan... I don't... I don't want to die..._ Noire shook her head. “Morgan... get away from here. I'll try to hold them off. You run off and get to Mother.”

“W-what?!” Morgan's voice was shrill as she screamed. “No! I don't wanna leave you here!”

“Morgan!” Noire pleaded, her voice desperate. “Mother's up ahead, and she'll be worried where you are... and I'll be right behind you, I promise. Just... just go now!” Noire pushed Morgan away and turned around.

“No! I'm not leaving you!” Morgan screamed as she pulled on her sister's arm. “No, no, no!”

“ _Morgan!_ ” Noire cried, trying to shake her sister free. Her talisman seemed to pulsate against her, thrumming in her mind as she willed forward her strength to push her sister away.

A shadow looming over them made them stop, the Risen peering down at them, before it raised its axe. Noire immediately turned around, shielding her sister with her body, closing her eyes tightly.

The howl of the darkness made the hairs on the back of Noire's neck stand up. She snapped her eyes open. When she turned to look at the Risen, her mouth fell, gasping soundlessly.

Her mother shoved aside the Risen, engulfing it with her dark magic. Her shoulder hung awkwardly and Noire wanted to scream, having never seen so much blood before, much less coming her own _mother._

“Noire,” her mother grunted. Noire had never heard her mother so weak before and she wanted to reach out to help her.

“Mother?!” Morgan cried, struggling in Noire's grasp.

“Get... get out of here.” Her mother heaved, breath coming out uneven now. “I've... cleared the path ahead. Get... to the castle. Anything. Just be safe.”

“Mother!” Noire cried out. Her mother turned around and knelt, a hand on both of their heads. Morgan stopped struggling, peeking up at her through Noire's grasp.

“I... I love you, both of you. Get yourself... safe. Protect... your sister, Noire.” Her mother stood up, facing down the Risen who shambled close by, regarding her mother as a threat now. Her mother let out a throaty laugh, spellbook whipping through its pages as the darkness surrounded her. Blood trailed with every step she took.

“There won't be anything left when I'm done with you...” Her mother's voice was low and ominous.

Noire took her sister and ran, even as Morgan cried for them to go back, holding back her sobs as she felt the familiar aura of her mother's dark magic snuff out from behind them.

 

 

* * *

 

“Dinner's here.” Brady's voice drifted over to where she laid in her bedroll. If his voice sounded softer than usual, Noire didn't notice. He grunted softly and walked away. Noire shrank deeper within herself.

She stayed in her tent ever since... the incident. She came out when it was time to move and followed her orders if anyone needed her.

But what point was there anymore? What point was there to even live anymore? The only reason for Noire to be strong and live was cruelly wrested from her. She felt empty, devoid of anything.

She hugged herself, hands gripping her arm tight in a white grasp. Even though her stomach gurgled and growled, she had no strength or appetite to move. Her precious talisman, the last memento from her mother, laid on the ground, away from her. The strength she drew from it couldn't help her here. How could it ever help her again, when it had failed in giving her strength when she truly needed it?

“Noire?” Lucina's voice shot through her mind. She was the last person Noire wanted to see right now. “Noire!”

Noire took a deep breath before calling out, “I'm... not hungry. You should eat it for yourself.” Her voice was surprisingly steady after not speaking for a week.

Silence only answered her back. Noire let out a shuddering breath and pushed her face into her pillow, burying herself deeper into her blanket.

The sudden feeling of a presence next to her shot warning bells in her mind. She panicked, quickly sitting up and reaching for the knife she kept close to her bed until a hand grabbed her wrist. In the darkness of her tent and the night, she couldn't see her assailant. Maybe this was better, maybe this was what she deserved. She promised her parents that she would take care of her sister and she couldn't even do that. Her sister was taken away and Noire would never know what happened to her.

It was better for Morgan to stay dead than to remain captive in the hands of the Grimleal.

The thought of Morgan being dead made her choke, a sob breaking out of her.

“Noire!” And she realized who was next to her then, Lucina's calloused hand on her face. “Are you fine? I'm sorry, I wasn't sure what you were going to do. I should have said something.”

Noire said nothing, only keeping her head down, trying to hide her hiccups. “Noire?” Lucina tried to look at her through the darkness. Her hand patted Noire's cheek gently. It felt so warm that Noire felt the tears spilling past and she let out a soft cry. Lucina only breathed softly before she pulled Noire closer.

Noire clung to her, crying against her, trying to speak. Nothing but broken words and sobbing escaped her mouth. Lucina only murmured to her, rubbing her hands along her back.

It was so unfair, Noire couldn't help but think. Lucina still had her sister. But Lucina was the only person who could understand her, understand the fear of having her sister suddenly torn out of her life. Everything was _so unfair._

Noire pulled back then, breathing heavily. Even if Lucina's arms were soft and comforting, she felt as something was crushing her instead. She continued to keep her eyes down even if she couldn't see anything through the darkness. Sensing the sudden shift in atmosphere, Lucina's arms still remained around her, though they loosened to let Noire pull away completely if she wished. Noire didn't, gripping Lucina's arms tightly. She didn't miss the slight hiss the princess made and remembered what had happened to her arms.

“A-ah.” Noire guiltily looked at Lucina's arms, releasing her grasp and letting her hands fall down uselessly. “S-sorry. I... sorry.”

“It's fine,” Lucina murmured, “I was the one who decided to run and leave Morgan behind. I regret it.”

If it had come from anyone else, it would have been a slap in the face for Noire and she would have screamed righteous fury at them. But Lucina... _Lucina–_

Noire didn't trust herself to say anything yet. Yes, it was Lucina who had held her back from saving Morgan and a part of her was still furious that Lucina dared to stop her while her sister was in danger. The more rational side acknowledged that if she had rushed in there, Noire would have been killed and Morgan still wouldn't have been saved. But there was the anger underneath, the anger that wanted Noire to feel that if she had been let to rampage as she normally did, things would have turned out differently.

She _knew_ that Lucina made the right choice, but... _but–_

Her stomach chose that moment to growl loudly.

Noire let out a mortified squeak, wanting to burrow into her blankets but Lucina was still holding onto her. She ducked her head instead, before realizing that it was still dark and it wasn't as if they could see each other anyway. Double embarrassment made her let out another squeak. Lucina seemed to be frozen before she dropped her hands to the poke at the ground next to her. Noire tried not to think about how much colder it had gotten without Lucina's arms around her. She was wondering what the other girl was doing though, when Lucina only continued to ruffle through the floor.

“Um... where is your lantern?” Lucina finally asked, her voice sounding vaguely embarrassed. Noire only let out another squeak and hastily went to light the lamp.

With the light in her tent, she could see the other girl now. Lucina had a soft smile on her face, eyes crinkled in amusement as she bent down to pick up the bowl of food, cold stew that had already become chunky and would have looked unappetizing, if Noire's hunger didn't return a hundredfold right at that moment.

Lucina pushed the bowl in to her hands and Noire eagerly picked up the spoon, shoveling the stew into her mouth. After the sixth bite, she realized Lucina was still in the tent, watching her.

“No, I don't mind. Please, continue eating.” Noire nodded awkwardly, looking back at her bowl, suddenly mindful of how she looked.

Even though it was cold and hard, it was delicious. She spooned it into her mouth, her mind wandering as she did so. Was Morgan eating dinner right now? Was Morgan still alive? What would her parents say to her?

“N-Noire?” Lucina hesitantly put a hand on her back. Noire only let out a sob as she continued to eat, her tears falling into her meal.

“Morgan would push all the carrots aside,” Noire whispered, half sobbing and laughing, “she'd try to push them into mine when I wasn't looking.” Lucina's hand on her back dropped to her arm, a comforting gesture Noire focused on. “Sometimes, I'd catch her feeding them to either Yarne or Cynthia's pegasus.” Noire smiled through her tears, pausing to spoon the rest of the stew into her mouth. Lucina remained silent as she listened to Noire ramble on about Morgan's habits.

“In the end... everyone... everyone... just leaves me.” Noire closed her eyes tightly, sobbing. Lucina moved her hand to lay it gently on top of Noire's, rubbing it soothingly. But Noire moved her hand to grip it tightly, squeezing it with such ferocity that she knew it had to hurt Lucina even if Lucina showed no discomfort. Noire tried to focus on it, tried to concentrate on how warm it was.

When Noire finally calmed down, Lucina gently pried the bowl from her hand, settling it down behind her, away from the bedroll.

“Do you feel better?” Lucina asked in a soft murmur. Noire tried not to shiver when she felt Lucina's breath on her ear.

“I... I...” She couldn't quite speak yet so she nodded, still keeping her eyes down.

Lucina let out a soft sigh. “Good. I should... I should leave you to rest up then.” She was pulling away when Noire reached out, grabbing her sleeve.

Noire still couldn't speak so she shook her head. “I... can you...” she mumbled, still unable to meet Lucina's eyes but gripping her sleeve tighter.

It was only a simple request, to ask Lucina to stay, but she didn't know why she felt so. It wasn't as if Lucina and her were... _close_. But Lucina was the only one in the camp who could sympathize with Noire. She wanted... what she wanted right now...

Lucina only nodded, turning around to blow out the lamp. The tent was engulfed in darkness and not for the first time, Noire felt that choking sensation, as if she was suffocating. She let out another sob, breathing heavily as she tried to steady her hands against her legs. Lucina's arms wound back around her and she felt herself being lowered to the ground.

“Shh,” Lucina whispered into her hair, stroking it. Noire felt herself relaxed, gripping Lucina with a strength she didn't know she had. Lucina continued to whisper softly before humming. Noire wondered if she did this often to Kjelle when she was younger. The thought of Lucina and Kjelle made her inhale sharply but Lucina moved her hand to Noire's face, stroking it with soft touches. “Relax. Don't think about anything right now. Just... rest,” Lucina only whispered.

As if magic, Noire instantly felt herself sinking into Lucina's embrace. She didn't want to be treated like she was fragile, but there was something about Lucina, something she couldn't quite place yet, that made it okay for her, made her think that it was okay for her to act selfish. She closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of Lucina and wondering why it made her feel so safe and calm.

 

* * *

 

Noire knew there was something wrong as they got closer to the castle.

She couldn't help the sinking feeling in her gut, crushing her even more than when they were infiltrating Plegia. The more she looked at the castle, the more apprehensive she felt. She half expected the castle to explode the moment she took her eyes off of it. Even Cynthia couldn't muster up the courage to speak anything, her face just as apprehensive as all of them.

When they saw Gerome speeding toward them, they could all tell something was wrong.

“Gerome? What are you doing here?” Cynthia was the first to speak, gripping her reins tightly. Noire didn't like how even more drawn his face seemed to be.

“... you have the last gemstone?” he only asked first. Kjelle scowled at his sudden dismissal but nodded.

“We have Azure.”

Gerome nodded approvingly. “Good,” he said with a grunt as he turned back around. “We had to relocate camp. We were...” For some reason Gerome hesitated. “We were attacked.”

“What?!” Nah was the one who exclaimed, stepping forward. She gripped her dragonstone nervously.

“We're safe. But...” Gerome let out a sigh and turned around, Minerva growling in worry. “Come, I'll show you the way to camp. Everyone else is back safely. You were all the last to arrive.”

Even knowing that everyone was safe couldn't help alleviate the sudden tension they all felt. Noire swallowed, her throat suddenly dry, trying to push the uneasy feeling in her away.

When they came to the camp, they saw everyone there, their faces even more somber than usual. Even Owain's face was uncharacteristically serious, sitting quietly with Brady who had a frown on his face. They all stood up when they saw them.

“Kjelle, you should...” Owain began to say before he looked away. Brady only let out a loud sigh, shaking his head.

“W-what?” Kjelle reached out, gripping Owain's clothes. “Is it Lucina?!”

“I thought that loud shouting would be you.” Severa came out of her tent with a huff. Before Kjelle could round on her, she raised her hands in surrender. “Hurry up and see your sister.” She pointed to a tent, presumably where Lucina was. Kjelle only gave her a look before rushing off.

“W-what, what what happened?!” Cynthia finally cried out, looking between Severa and Gerome.

Gerome looked away, a pained expression on his face. “She... she was attacked by Grima.”

Noire felt her blood go cold. Grima. Grima attacked Lucina. _Her father_ attacked Lucina.

“Noire? You okay?” Severa waved a hand in front of her. “D-don't tell me you're scared of Grima!” Severa tried to joke but it was obvious that she was only putting on a brave front, with her slight stutter. Noire only shook her head and let out a sigh that she hoped only sounded tired.

“I'm just... just tired.” She smiled nervously. It didn't look as if Severa believed her but she nodded, gesturing behind her.

“We're gonna move out first thing tomorrow morning. Get lots of rest,” Severa spoke, a touch less gruff than she usually was before stomping away.

Noire watched her leave, the tension palpable in both Severa and the air. Owain continued to glance toward Lucina's tent but his shoulders slumped pathetically, scowling to himself.

She moved away, setting up her tent. She _was_ tired, and she didn't doubt that everyone else wasn't, but there was something... something she felt she needed to do.

She set up her tent and laid down in her bedroll, her mind whirling with the events of tomorrow in her mind.

The Awakening. It seemed like such a far off goal but now that they had the gemstones and Fire Emblem, it was a reality that was about to happen in a few hours.

 _Traveling back in time..._ the whole idea seemed so absurd but that was what _Naga_ said they were going to do. If Naga said so then... they really had no choice, did they? They had to leave behind everything in this world in order to prevent this tragedy from happening.

 _But what about Morgan?_ Noire's mind couldn't help but think. She curled into herself, sighing loudly. It had already been several years since she had seen her sister, and the sting and pain of losing Morgan had never truly faded. Even now, the guilt was so overwhelming that Noire felt as if she would choke on everything. Lucina always snapped her out of it and though Noire still couldn't help but feel jealous whenever she saw Lucina and Kjelle, she appreciated Lucina's presence. It was a comfort, like a beacon of light whenever she was dragged into the dark recesses of her mind.

Somehow, before she knew it, she had fallen asleep, tired from traveling as quickly as possible back and the stress of thinking about the _everything_. When Noire woke up though, it was dark. She sat up, rubbing her eyes, wondering what time it was. She crawled outside, looking up at the moon. Early morning, she guessed, with several more hours until sunrise. Now that she was awake though, she found herself wide awake. Yawning to herself, she decided to walk around camp, to clear her head.

Unsurprisingly, she found Gerome still awake, next to Minerva at the edge of camp. He looked up when she came but other than that, did nothing else. She awkwardly nodded at him as she walked past.

Noire wasn't sure where exactly she was walking until she nearly tripped over something. She let out a yelp – and realized she fell on top of something warm. A hand.

She was about to let out a scream when a hand covered her mouth quickly, muffling it in time.

“Noire?” Noire blinked and tugged on the hand to clear her mouth, incredulous now.

“L-Lucina?” Her voice was full of disbelief. “Were _you_ what I was about to trip on?!”

“Ah. Um, yes.” Lucina coughed with a small laugh. “I'm sorry, I was out of it and didn't notice...” she trailed off, mortified.

“No! I mean, I was the one who fell on top of you!” Noire laughed, but it came out shaky and nervous. “Um... so what were you doing out here?” she quickly asked, pushing her anxiousness down.

“Hm?” Lucina looked away from her, keeping her face hidden. “I was... I needed some fresh air.”

“... ah.” Noire got the impression that Lucina wanted to be left alone and she was about to do so until she remembered what had happened.

_Lucina was attacked by Grima._

For some reason, she sat down next to Lucina, ignoring the princess' gasp of surprise.

“L-Lucina...” she began, wincing at the stutter, “you... you were attacked by Grima, weren't you?”

Lucina opened her mouth, her brows drawn, ready to deny it. Instead, she sighed tiredly, closing her eyes, letting that answer for her. She couldn't meet Noire's eyes, and Noire suspected she knew why.

Noire hesitantly reached a hand out, touching Lucina's shoulder. “Grima... Grima is my father, isn't he?” Lucina's head snapped up at her so fast Noire was afraid she would get whiplash. She quickly shook her head until Noire smiled bitterly. “It's okay, I already knew.”

“You...” Lucina studied her, staring at her. Noire fidgeted, withdrawing her hand.

“... I'm sorry,” Noire whispered, feeling the guilt, once pushed down, surge back up. “My father... he's... the reason for...”

“Noire...” Lucina could only say, looking at her forlornly.

“My father... what he did... I can't...” Noire closed her eyes tightly. “I have to fix what he did. But I... everyone...”

She missed Lucina suddenly blinking at her, and grabbing her hands, cradling them within her own.

“Noire,” Lucina spoke, her voice firm, “what your father did... no, Grima... it wasn't your fault.”

“H-huh?” Noire snapped her head up at her, shaking her head furiously. “He's my father! I could have... my father destroyed everything! He... all of our parents... everyone's parents... this world...” she trailed off bitterly.

“It's not your fault!” Lucina said, oddly insistent. “What your father did is what your father did. But you... you're Noire. You're... you. You're not your father. You've helped protect all of us so far. You wouldn't...” Lucina stopped speaking, as if losing her nerve.

“My father...” Noire whispered. She stared down at their hands, turning them around to hold Lucina's. “I still... I still feel like I should...” Noire let out a sigh, frowning to herself. They were quiet for several more moments until Lucina raised her hand, touching Noire's cheek. Noire let out a surprised gasp, both at the touch and how cold Lucina's hand was.

“You helped us get a gemstone. That's more than enough to prove that you aren't... like Grima. I don't know your father, but I remember he was a gentle man who my father trusted to the very end. _Grima_ is the one who destroyed everything, not your father. And I know _you_ so... I trust you.”

“Lucina...” Noire stared at the princess, wondering why Lucina believed in her so. She didn't expect Lucina to stare back up at her.

She wasn't sure what happened, but suddenly, Lucina's lips were on hers, pressing softly against her own. Noire widened her eyes at first before she slowly closed them, pressing back against Lucina's, raising her hand to grip Lucina's arm. Lucina's hand on her face stroked her cheek softly. Too soon, Lucina pulled away, blinking at her. The moment she saw Lucina's eyes, Noire felt her face burn up.

 _Oh... was that what it was?_ Noire unconsciously licked her lips.

“I...” Lucina looked away, suddenly awkward and nervous. She looked so uncertain and helpless that Noire's hands twitched and she did the first thing on her mind: she pulled Lucina closer, burying the princess' face into her shoulder.

They didn't speak even though Noire was pretty sure they were supposed to... say _something_. But it felt more relaxing to hold Lucina like this, and Noire didn't trust her tongue just yet. It didn't seem as if Lucina wanted to say anything as well, with how tightly she clung to her as she buried her face into Noire's body. There was something about this whole situation that felt both odd and right to Noire, but she had no time to think about it before Lucina spoke.

“... what if I fail the Awakening?” Lucina whispered so quietly that Noire almost didn't catch it.

“W-what?” Noire felt her blood turn cold and she looked down.

“What if... I'm not worthy, what if I...”

Noire closed her eyes, trying to stop her own tears from falling.

“Lucina... sometimes... it's okay to be weak, you know?” Noire whispered, “sometimes, it's okay to not know what to do. I feel like that all the time.” Noire ran her fingers through Lucina's hair, hoping the gesture was comforting to Lucina as it was to her.

“We're all in this together. We're not gonna... hate you if you doubt yourself. We've all survived together so far.” She let out a deep breath. “I... I couldn't protect anything... not my mother, nor Morgan... but I... I'll try to protect you, Lucina. You're... very important.” Not just to me, but to everyone, Noire wanted to say, but she was sure Lucina would object. Lucina was always like that.

“Grima...” Lucina began to whisper brokenly, “he... he killed my father and nearly killed me too! What if I can't...”

“But you're still... alive right now, aren't you?” Noire cut in. “My father–” she had to swallow her throat to get rid of the lump whenever she mentioned her father, “he always told me that even when defeat looks like the only option, as long as we can see victory, we can still achieve it.”

“Victory...” Lucina whispered. Noire took a deep breath before she continued speaking.

“We all believe in you, Lucina. Whether you fail or not, we won't blame you. You're... trying to survive just as much as we are and... I admit that I forget that you're just like us, sometimes.” Noire smiled into Lucina's hair. “I always feel weak all the time and I feel like I'm nothing but a drag on everyone.” She felt Lucina shake her head but continued speaking, patting Lucina's head. “I think you're amazing, to be able to hold yourself up all the time. But if you feel like... letting it out, I don't... I don't mind listening to you.”

“I'm... I'm tired of being dependent on everyone. Even if it's something little... I want to be of some use to you, Lucina.”

“Noire...” Lucina slowly pulled away, staring at her hands in front of them. “I'm sorry, I just... I just felt weak all of a sudden. Thank you for listening to me. If only I was stronger...” Noire shook her head.

“Don't... worry about it. We all have our moments of weakness,” Noire replied softly. Lucina let out a shaky breath, nodding against her. They were quiet again, brooding in their own thoughts.

Noire couldn't help but think about tomorrow, and everything it would entail. A thought came to her then, and she began to speak, trying to push the sudden feeling of agitation down.

“Lucina... we're going to be going to the past right...”

“Yes... as outlandish as it sounds, we are.”

“Then... to save the world... we have to defeat Grima, or prevent his coming.”

“... yes.” Lucina's voice began to sound bemused.

“Would... we have to kill my father?”

“Noire?!” Lucina's head shot up, staring at her in shock. “What... are you...”

“When... when I was younger, I remember... seeing the Mark upon his hand. That means... he already had it back then. It... doesn't change that my father will become Grima, does it?”

“Noire.” Lucina sat up, staring straight in her eyes. “are you suggesting that we go back in time to kill your father?”

“I...” She closed her eyes, sighing loudly. “I don't know anymore...” When she opened them, she kept them away from Lucina's gaze. The Brand in her eye seemed accusatory and Noire couldn't look at it. “My father... he's Grima... so if he's dead... he wouldn't become Grima.” Noire let out a choked sob, grabbing at her head.

“Look at the world we live in, Lucina! Look at all the death and destruction we've lived through! My father... my father was the cause for all of this! He killed everyone! He almost killed _you!_ ” Noire finished with a whimper.

Lucina gave no response but she turned her gaze downward.

“My father... we know he becomes Grima. If there are no other alternatives... my father... he'd–”

“No!” Lucina snapped her head up, shaking her head in vehemence. “I don't... I don't want to go back in time to kill someone, least of all your father! And my father's dear friend too! How could you suggest something like that?”

“Because... everything... was already taken away from us. By Grima! Your father was killed by mine! I miss my father as much as the next person, but the only reason we're all suffering right now is because of Grima! Who is my father! How do you think I feel, knowing my own father is responsible for this hellhole we've been living in!?” Noire's voice was bitter as she spat the words out. “I have his cursed blood running through my veins! What's the chance that I won't be the same as him?! Then I should be killed –”

“Noire!” Lucina snapped, stopping Noire mid-rant. She looked away shamefully. She couldn't look at Lucina right now, didn't want to see what sort of face Lucina was making. Noire's body shook as she tried to contain her sobs.

“I'm... I'm not saying that we should... but... if there is no other way to save the world then–”

“ _No,_ ” Lucina whispered then, staring at Noire. But when Noire turned to look at her, her eyes flickered. “I... I mean... no... not you.” Lucina finished, her voice even weaker than before. “The thought of having to kill your own father shouldn't be something on your mind, nor do I wish to stomach the thought of having to kill... _either_ of you.” She buried her face into Noire's shoulder, her body shaking.

Noire gritted her teeth. Despite how hard Lucina acted, underneath it all, Lucina was the most compassionate and kind out of all of them. She hated herself for speaking what she had, but at the same time, this whole world... all of their lives had been completely destroyed by Grima. Above all else, she wanted nothing more than to never see that come to fruition again.

“If there are no other alternatives, it's something to consider.” Noire found herself both speaking and not, as if the words came from someone else. “This world... everything that's happened... I want to do everything we can to prevent it.” Lucina let out a deep sigh then, pulling back and staring up at Noire.

“Very well.” Noire's head shot up, blinking at Lucina. The princess had nothing but steel and willpower in her eyes. “I agree with your words. If... there is truly no other alternative, then we must consider that.” Lucina took her hand then, and looked straight into her eyes. “If it comes down to that, then I offer my life to you, in return.”

“... _what!?_ ” Noire's voice nearly turned shrill from surprise.

“It is only fair. If I kill your father, then my life is yours, to do as you wish.” Noire thought she sounded oddly obstinate about it, with the way her eyes were hardened, boring into Noire's. If there was something she admired about Lucina though, it was the way she threw herself completely into everything she did.

But Noire's head spun at Lucina's proposal. “That's... that...” The whole situation seemed surreal, as if it wasn't happening to her, but Lucina's eyes stared into hers, headstrong. She realized _who_ Kjelle got that stare from, she couldn't help but think. “Let's... um... let's... just hope it doesn't have to come down to that.” Noire said nervously. Even if she was the one who suggested it, it felt strange to hear Lucina agree so readily to it.

Lucina only nodded, but hid her face into Noire's shoulder again, hands gripping her tightly. Noire could only hold her back just as tightly as well, trying to push the feeling of uneasiness down.

 

* * *

 

“Run! Hurry and run to the gate!” Owain shouted, waving frantically.

It was a literal sprint for the gate between the twelve of them and the army of Risen steadily catching up to them. Noire felt her lungs burning, working even harder than they normally were. Even if her body burned and told her to stop, no, not here, not when they were so close. If there was one time where she cursed her frailness even more so than usual, it was right here, as she watched her more able-bodied friends run ahead of her. Cynthia, Gerome, and Nah were already ahead, having used their superior movement to clear the path for all of them, frantically fighting.

There was a hand on hers and she felt herself being tugged forward, legs running to keep the momentum. Lucina was in front of her, holding onto her hand tightly, trying to pull her forward.

 _She looks so strange with her mask,_ Noire had to think.

But Noire knew that Lucina had to slow her own running down to aid Noire. Lucina was... the only person they needed to get back to the past. It was an unspoken agreement they had all come to.

“Lucina–”

The thunderous roar of a dragon boomed out from behind them, but Noire could feel it enveloping her very body, letting out a sharp hiss as her ears shook from the sheer force.

Everything had frozen, as all of them turned around to stare up at the mighty form of Grima looming in the sky.

“Father...” Noire couldn't help but find herself whispering, tears forming in her eyes. How could... how could they think that they had a chance against _him?_ Lucina's hand tugged on hers, snapping her out of her trance.

“He's not your father anymore, Noire,” Lucina said. Her hand was shaking, Noire realized. She was still affected by nearly being killed, and her eyes were trained on the gate in front of them, refusing to look at Grima.

“I... I know.” Noire squeezed her hand back before pushing Lucina off. “Go on ahead! You're a better runner than I am. Don't let me slow you down!”

“Noire...” Lucina wanted to protest but she saw the determination in Noire's eyes. “Alright... I...” Lucina returned her look. “I'll see you on the other side then!” She turned around, and the last thing Noire saw of her was her back, cape swishing around her, enveloping her form as she disappeared into the gate.

Noire continued to run, scrambling for the gate as fast as she could. She couldn't see any of the others, nor did she know if there was any of them behind her, only that she trusted them to make it to the gate without hesitation. Even Noire knew there was no time for doubts here.

A flash of purple made her turn her head, attention taken away from the gate.

Her eyes widened.

Even with the hood, there was no mistaking that mess of dark hair with the same eyes her – no, _their_ father had. The robes of the Grimleal seemed oddly fitting. Despite every instinct that was telling Noire she had to get into the gate to follow after everyone, she wanted nothing more than to run away, run so she could apologize for everything.

Grima roared. Morgan raised a hand and the familiar tendrils of shadow their mother used to command rose from the ground, shooting toward her.

Noire tore her gaze away and leaped into the gate.

 

* * *

 

 

“The bow?” Her father raised his brow in surprise. “I'm... I can't say I expected that. That wasn't what I thought you'd say.”

“R-really?” Noire frowned, doubting herself. “I can learn something else–”

“No, if you truly wish to learn it, then I have no objections.” Her father bent down, looking at her curiously. “But I'd like to know why.”

“Both you and mother cast magic. What happens if you run into an enemy that's resistant to magic? I... I can get them with a bow instead!” She looked away nervously, not speaking her second reason for wanting to use a bow. She wanted to try the sword, be skilled in it just like her father, but she knew she didn't have the constitution and strength for it. A bow sounded better suited for her anyway. “I mean... I can... also learn magic too...”

“Noire, you can do whatever you want.” Her father's smile was patient. “Are you sure it's the bow you wish to learn?”

Noire froze up, wondering if her father somehow read her mind. He really was an amazing person. She quickly shook her head. “N-no! I want to learn the bow.” That seemed to satisfy him and he gave her a nod.

“I did try my hand at a bow once. I remember the basics, though I won't be able to teach you the advanced techniques.” He smiled sheepishly. “You'll have to learn them from the books. I did have a friend who was an archer, but he's far away now and it'll be a long while before I can see him.” He patted her head. “We can get started on your training now.”

Noire beamed up at her father and nodded eagerly. She remembered his strong hands cradling hers as he corrected her form, remembered his warmth as he whispered his praise in her ears, and even how her mother watched them, with warmth and affection, she'd like to think.

She practiced the bow everyday, anytime she wasn't helping her mother. Her father had given her the basic fundamentals and she wanted to show him how far she had progressed every time he came back home.

 

 

* * *

 

The back of her head throbbed painfully. Noire let out a hiss of pain, pressing against her head. She heard noises of things shuffling around her. It made her immediately sit up, alert even through the pounding headache, logic and reasoning giving way to reflex and survival instinct. Her hands clutched wildly around her, trying to reach for her bow. When she looked to see where it was, it was when she realized it wasn't Risen who were surrounding her but _humans_ , she blinked, looking around her.

Stony faces stared back at her, their eyes empty. Further back, she could spot some children, trying their best to hold in their sobs. The overwhelming majority of humans were female, she noticed. Noire tried to recall what happened before... before...

Ah. Now she could remember. She had been knocked unconscious by a bandit fortunate enough to escape her notice. Now she was paying the price for letting down her guard.

“W... where are we?” She finally decided to ask, wondering why everyone looked so grim-faced. No one answered her.

“We're going to be sold,” a woman replied, her voice bitter.

“S-sold?” Noire fell back, gaping at her. “W-what?” Noire whipped around, trying to see who had spoken. No one offered any other words.

She fell back on her hands, her mouth moving up and down. In the future, when things were truly desperate, Noire knew that humans would do anything to survive, including sell out their human allies. Noire knew she was blessed with truly splendid comrades and friends who would never turn their back on her for all of her flaws. Even Yarne was willing to sacrifice himself if it came down to it, when they were in their more desperate moments.

Ever since coming back to the past, Noire became privy to much more... human horrors. All she had known back then were the terror of the Risen, who were nothing more but brainless monsters that ripped everything in their path apart. Even if they all looked human, Noire would shoot all of them down, because she absolutely had to.

But here... when there was no feeling of terror or desperation... her hand hesitated more than once when she found herself taking aim at humans. Even if they were bandits who truly deserved the worst, Noire's hand trembled all the same. It only became easier after the first several times and she had to tell herself they were humans who didn't deserve to live for preying on those weaker than them. But the flash of hesitation struck her again and now she was paying the price for it.

“For just what... did we come back for?” Noire muttered, pressing a hand to her head as she tried to hold in her hysterical laughter. The others looked at her strangely, shuffling away. “This world... I...”

She closed her eyes, sighing deeply as she buried her face into her knees.

_”I want to make the world beautiful again, as it used to be.”_

“Lucina...” Noire whispered, clenching her fists.

The air here was still fresh and lively, not stale and dead back in their world. It was such a marked difference that Noire felt like she was suffocating on how... _clean_ everything smelled. There was the lingering smell of rot that permeated everything back in their world and to not have that here...

Then she saw the giant fields of flowers and _green_ grass, and wondered why she ever thought the scenery of dead and brown grass was an acceptable landscape, not when she remembered how beautiful they were. This, the still green and living land, with the wind that blew forth life, this was what Lucina was talking about, and Noire didn't want this world to disappear, to become the hellhole that was their home. No one in this world deserved any of that.

To be caught in a situation like this... what would the others think of her? The thought of her friends thinking lowly of her, along with her own pride made the fury rumble underneath, clenching her fists.

“Lucina... I'll... I'll...” Noire looked up, glaring at the door. They took away her bow and arrows, but that didn't mean she wasn't proficient in anything else. They hadn't found the knife she had hidden, and Noire knew that her frail and sickly demeanor often made people underestimate her. The knife was useless against Risen but against humans...

She removed the knife, hiding it in her sleeve before moving next to the door. She took a deep breath, trying not to grin wickedly (there would be time for that later) and began to moan loudly, clutching her stomach. She only stopped when there was a pounding at the door.

“Hey! Who's making that noise!?”

“I... I'm sorry, I just... my stomach... it... really hurts,” Noire called out weakly.

“Deal with it!” The bandit shouted through the door.

“No... it hurts so much... please!” Noire's voice became pleading. “Just... just for a few minutes... let me get a minute of fresh air. That's... I... please!” She heard the bandits bickering outside and while she waited, she looked at the rest of the room. Some of the others had caught on to what she was trying to do, looking at her hopefully, but the others who hadn't...

They reminded Noire of the people she had seen back in her world, when they had given up on everything, and she didn't doubt that there weren't times where the same look was mirrored in her own eyes. But she was here now, in the past, to change everything. Noire tried to smile reassuringly, though she was sure she looked more worried than not.

The door opened, and a bandit stepped in, glaring at all of them. Noire nearly cried with relief.

He was holding a bow.

“You the one?” He bent down with a disgusted sneer, leering at her. When she looked up at him, her smile was crooked, knife in her hands. In the next instant, she rolled away from the dead body, pilfering his bow and arrows.

“Foolish mortals! You believed for a moment you could bring me down? Your life was forfeited the moment the thought entered your mind!”

Noire stood inside the hut, firing at whoever she could see. If it was the Risen, they would have reacted immediately, but humans took longer to register surprise. She took complete advantage of it, rolling out and clearing out the rest of the bandits who were nearby.

She ran back inside, and paused. She was going to tell them to escape, but now that she thought about it, she still had no idea where they were.

“... um,” she said, looking over all the people who stared at her expectantly. She wasn't a leader like Lucina, nor did she have the confidence that everyone else had (barring Yarne she had to add). She wasn't charismatic enough to believe that she could protect all of them without sustaining injuries, but she didn't want to leave them here while she ran off to find help.

The decision was taken out of her hands when she heard a shout, and the clamor inside the camp increased. She had to do something _now_.

“I'm... I'll... try to get rid of the rest of the bandits so... figure out what to do,” she managed to say, feeling guilty for not being able to say anything else. With that, she ran back out, with her eyes darting everywhere, taking comfort in the familiar action of her archery.

Noire fired at anyone who looked at her strangely, knowing there were no allies here. It was sad how comforting the entire action was, making her fall into reflex, her body already so used from fighting the Risen all the time, and at least the bandits were human to recognize that she meant them harm and reacted appropriately. There was an ill taste in her as she raised her bow to fire at those cowardly enough to run away, but all she had to do was remind herself of the hopeless looks of the people who were about to be sold to let an arrow fly without hesitation. The ones who stayed and dared to think they could take her on though...

“I am the fire and the fury! All who defy me will perish! Repent, scum! Repent, though it will save you not! Repent and despair!” Noire let out a gleeful cackle, smiling wicked at them.

A motion at the corner of her eye caught her attention. She moved to look at it – and felt her blood turn cold when she recognized the purple eyes on the dark colored robe.

_Grimleal._

The sight of Grimleal made her blood boil and she let out a snarl, turning to aim for the fool of a Grimleal who dared come to this spot. There was something... strange though, even as she aimed her bow, following the Grimleal that was zipping through the enemy lines, dark magic flying out of their hands. Even with their hood up, with all the jumping and evading the Grimleal was doing, she could see the slivers of white hair flying around to her trained eye. She wondered why it looked so familiar to her.

She took aim, ready to fire her arrow, when the Grimleal turned around.

The famed army tactician of Chrom's Shepherds raised his hand in defense, conjuring up a magic spell to protect him, until he realized the archer wasn't shooting at him.

Noire gaped, mouth moving uselessly up and down as the arrow shook in her hand. He walked closer, peering at her curiously, though he kept a steady hand on his tome. She backed up, shaking her head at him.

 _No... no... don't... stay away... don't..._ The tears gathered at the corners of her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She took another step backward and held her arrow steady.

“S-stop!” she cried, arrow aimed exactly at his head. “I'll shoot if you come closer!”

Her father – _no! He's **not!**_ – Robin, paused where he stood, staring at her.

 _If you shoot him here, you'll destroy yourself,_ her mind whispered.

 _But he's the one who destroyed everything,_ her anger howled.

Noire didn't care that she had tears streaming down her face as she took aim at her father of this time. He looked at her and though his hands were still cautious, she thought she saw a flash of familiarity in them.

“Father!”

Noire _felt_ rather than saw the shadows that reached out at the spot where she once was, leaping out of the way in time. She dropped her arrow in her evasion and moved to aim at who had tried to hurt her –

Noire dropped her bow this time, staring in complete disbelief.

Morgan stood in front of Robin with her hand out, dark magic gathering in them, glaring at Noire. She wanted to cry, or laugh, whichever one. Morgan. Her sister, Morgan, here, in the flesh, defending their father, from _Noire._ A third person arrived, and Noire really felt like laughing, as she stared at the much younger visage of her mother. Tharja coolly regarded the entire situation, glancing all of them.

“Mother!” Morgan chirped. “This person almost killed Father!”

“Oh? Did she now?” Tharja brought her spellbook up, and Noire felt her body rooted to the spot as her much younger mother regarded her as an insect to be crushed.

It was... too much.

“ _Noire!_ ”

Noire snapped her eyes open, the all too familiar voice ringing in her mind.

Lucina slid in front of her, arms out as she tried to shield Noire from her family.

“L-Lucina?!” Both Morgan and Robin exclaimed, blinking at her in surprise. Even Tharja was surprised, her brow rising.

“Lucina?” Noire whispered, staring in disbelief. Lucina turned around, and the familiar sight of the Brand staring back at her brought a comfort to Noire that she didn't know it did.

It reminded her of why they had come to the past. Though Lucina's face was drawn, it was full of relief. Noire felt anything but. She turned back to Robin, staring at his gloved hand.

She took a deep breath, licking her lips, strangely calm. Grabbing her bow, she nocked another arrow, aiming straight in front of her. “Lucina... move aside.”

“N-Noire?!” Lucina sputtered, turning around to face her. “What are you doing?!”

“The reason... why we had to come back... the reason why our world was destroyed...” Noire said through gritted teeth. “The cause... is right there! I...”

“I won't let you hurt Father!” Morgan screamed, summoning her magic, the aura of darkness radiating from her so strongly that even Noire trembled. But she couldn't back down, not even for Morgan. Lucina turned back around to them, shaking her head as she continuously glanced over her shoulder at Noire.

“No, Morgan!” Lucina shouted, eyes darting frantically as she tried to figure out how to calm the situation down. “You can't! She's... she's...” And Lucina faltered, turning back at Noire, her eyes pleading. “Noire... you... are you sure? You don't have to–”

“This is what I have to do!” Noire snapped, before her voice dropped. “This... is to make things right, isn't it?” Noire said quietly, her eyes trained on her father – _Robin_ , she had to remind herself.

“Noire...” Lucina raised her hand as if objecting before it fell to her side. “I... I cannot make your decisions for you. You've come back in time with me and have every right to see how we should avert the future. If you truly believe this to be the best choice then...” Lucina took a step back, clenching her fists.

“Lucina!?” Morgan cried out, betrayal in her tone. “No! I won't let you–”

Robin laid a hand on his daughter's head, shaking his head at her, before he stepped forward, looking straight into Noire's eyes.

“If you're one of Lucina's friends, then you've also come back in time to prevent the ruinous future that I am to cause,” he said calmly, “my life is yours.” He smiled, and suddenly, Noire felt doubt.

How could he be so understanding? She was about to kill him! It had to be a trick. He was waiting for her to back down. Even if he was her – _no, he's only someone who looks like him_ , she had to remind herself. She narrowed her eyes, focusing on Robin, arrow held taut. She could see Kjelle and Chrom approaching from behind them. If she wanted to kill Grima, now was the perfect time, before they could be interrupted.

Noire knew she could shoot before Morgan or Tharja could react in time, though doubted she could run away from their vengeance. Already, Noire could see the calculating look in Tharja's eyes, mentally charting out the vicious ways she would tear Noire apart, as if daring her to shoot. But she didn't know that Noire would gladly offer herself to them a hundredfold even if they never forgave her. Lucina's face remained blank, but Noire avoided looking at her, because Lucina's eyes always told everything she tried to hide.

She took another deep breath and trained her eyes on the Avatar, the cause of destruction and death that plagued the world that Lucina and her had come from, the one that made everything desolate and barren. “Be-because of you... everything in our world... because...” Noire's voice shook, her eyes narrowed in anger as she stared straight at the Avatar of the Fell Dragon.

There was nothing but understanding in Robin's eyes.

“How am I supposed to kill my own father?!” Noire screamed, tears streaming down her face, every ounce of her resolve snapping. She felt weak and pathetic as she stood there, crying to herself. Lucina was next to her then, laying a gentle hand where she held her bow, pushing it down.

Noire let her, staring pathetically at the ground, completely anguished at the thought that she was going to kill her own father, in front of Morgan. “Lucina!” She sobbed, crying into her shoulder. Lucina only caressed her back, whispering softly to her.

In the next second, she moved away, and Noire blinked at the empty space in front of her. Instead, a shadow loomed over her, and she found herself staring up at the torn face of Robin.

“'Your father...'” he only repeated, raising his hand to her face. She wanted to move backward, tell him he wasn't her father, but his voice was so _familiar_ that she remained frozen where she stood, staring up at him. “May... I have your name?”

“N-Noire,” she mumbled, unable to look at him.

“Noire,” Robin spoke quietly. He raised his arms, and she recognized what he wanted. She made no movement when his arms awkwardly moved around her. “Noire... I'm sorry.”

Noire felt her tears come back in full and she couldn't help the wail she let out.

“F-Father! I'm... Father! I'm so sorry... Father I...”

“Don't worry,” Robin only said. “I'm here.”

Noire finally cried in her father's arms after so many long years.

 

* * *

 

Seeing her mother and father both alive and being nearly the same age as them was the most surreal experience Noire ever had.

Tharja was both everything she expected and didn't expect. Noire found herself using the same skills from her childhood to shadow her much younger mother here, discovering many things she didn't know about both of her parents. Tharja trailed after Robin, staring at him with such passion that it always made Noire blush whenever she saw them.

But now, Noire could see why her father had fallen in love with her mother, when she chanced on them talking to each other. Tharja had a sharp and dry wit to her that few people had. Noire didn't inherit any of that, being awkward and flighty instead. For all of his exasperated sighing, her father gave her mother warm smiles.

The more surprising sides to her mother, she saw when she wasn't with Robin. Surprisingly, Nah's mother liked Tharja, often bouncing around her. She wasn't aware that Nah's mother and hers were close, especially when Noire herself wasn't... as close with Nah. Though Tharja scowled at the manakete, Noire caught them playing tricks on others in the camp.

At least, with Morgan, Tharja softened up, but it was more likely because of Morgan's exuberance and sheer energy than anything. She helped instruct Morgan with dark magic if she wanted, and sometimes, her face betrayed how much she didn't want to do anything, she always went along with Morgan's ideas in trying to help her regain her memories.

Noire wasn't sure what to think, as if her mother and the Tharja of this world were completely different people. All she had left of her real mother was her wedding ring and the talisman she made. Maybe in this world, already having to deal with a child that claimed to be hers, she was already being eased into the idea that she would eventually be a mother? Frankly, it was all strange and confusing and Noire could only wonder how the other parents felt when her friends traveled back in time to claim they were their children.

But Noire had missed her mother. And though the Tharja in this time wasn't the same, it was still her mother.

“You've got a lot of potential. If cultivated, your innate dark magics could become even stronger than mine...” Tharja spoke to her one day, letting out a low chuckle. “But it's too dangerous for you.”

“R-really?” Noire frowned. “Is it because I'm weak–”

“Yes.” Her mother had always been blunt. “Your body is too frail. Perhaps if you were of stronger constitution, then maybe...”

“... oh.” Noire looked away, unsure of what else to say.

“... well, it isn't as if I was planning on teaching them to Morgan.” Tharja sighed. “Look, the hexes and curses I deal with are... very potent. Stuff you should have been training with since you were born. So that's why I can't teach you anything about them.”

“Ah?” Noire blinked at her. “If you really wanted me to learn the curses, then... you would have already been teaching me since I was born?”

“That's one way to do it,” Tharja muttered. Noire couldn't help the pleased smile, and Tharja scowled at what she had implied. “I don't know what sort of future you came from, but... I'm willing to teach you anything else, not hexes. Of course, you're still going to be helping me in all of my research.”

“O-of course!” Noire stood up excitedly, grinning. “We never got to spend time when I was younger, so I don't mind doing anything for you, even if... I'm not really your daughter.”

Tharja frowned at her. “Is that any way to speak to your own mother? I should test my new hex on you instead of your father.”

“Um!” Noire shook her head. “As... long as they don't give me a runny nose...” Her mother only chuckled darkly, but Noire smiled, knowing her mother was still the same.

Her father was also a different story.

Robin was always busy, always with a map or book in his hands, but he somehow managed to keep such good relations with the rest of the army. She could see the trust he had for Chrom, but she didn't know how highly everyone else thought of him.

He trained with Kjelle, earning her respect, and _that_ was impossible.

Still, even though he was her father, Noire couldn't help but remember him as the Fell Dragon who destroyed all chances of hope in her world.

“Noire?” Robin called out for her one day, and she couldn't help the instinctive snap of her head to his voice. Even if he wasn't her real father, he still had the same voice, and she still longed to hear it.

“Y-yes?” she asked. He gestured next to him.

“Mind spending some time with your father?” he joked, smiling lightly at her. Noire swallowed down the knot in her throat, keeping her face down as she nodded.

“S-sure.”

“Oh...” Robin scratched his head in apology. “I'm sorry, I know I'm not your real father. I won't joke about it again.”

“N-no!” Noire looked up at him, shaking her head. “I'm... you're not _my_ father, but you're still my father, even if... I'm not born yet.” She felt her cheeks turning red as she mumbled the next part. “I... I don't mind spending time with my father, even if we're... around the same age.”

“That's... still going to take some time to get used to. I can't make fun of Chrom anymore.” He muttered, scratching his head. “So! I just wanted to know something. Why did you decide to use the bow?”

Noire blinked. “The bow?”

“Yes.” He tapped his chin. “I don't believe either of us have much experience with the bow, so I'm a little surprised to see you taking up archery. Considering that Morgan has an affinity for magic, I'm surprised you don't.”

“Oh! I mean... I can use magic but...” Noire's cheeks turned pink as she mumbled out the rest of her words. “I learned the bow because I wanted to be able to protect you and Mother, but I'm not strong enough to hold a sword...”

“I see...” Robin continued to look thoughtful. “I was just wondering why the bow... I don't think I have any experience, but I can't say the same for your mother.”

Noire blinked at his words. “H-huh? You were the one who taught me the bow though.”

“... did I.” Robin furrowed his brow. “I can't say I knew how to use a bow before my amnesia... but I haven't used one recently... fascinating...” He waved a hand, as if dropping the subject further before turning to her, face brightening. “Then, how about you teach me how to use the bow? I'm always interested in learning about different weapons and though Virion is skilled, I'm sure it would be a better experience to learn from my own daughter, never mind the ramifications of having my daughter teach me the bow that my alternative self taught her.”

“R-really?!” Noire couldn't help the incredulity, at both his words and the sudden... exhilaration she suddenly felt. “Are you sure? I mean... I don't know...”

“Of course. Would you like Morgan to join as well? I'm sure she'd like to spend time with her sister.”

 _Morgan_.

Noire's mood instantly deflated and she shrank within herself. Robin instantly sensed the shift in mood and closed his mouth.

“Is... is there something wrong?” he asked softly, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“N-no.” Noire shook her head, trying not to let him see her expression. Robin left it alone, reassuring her that whatever it was, he was always here for her. Noire only nodded.

Morgan was the hardest thing she had to get used to.

The last time she had seen Morgan was so many years ago. Here, Morgan's face was older but she still had that baby face Noire was used to seeing. She was her little sister, the same one she failed to save.

After the sinking horror that Morgan had lost her memories and didn't remember her, Noire was ashamed to admit that she felt relief afterward, because that meant Morgan didn't remember her failure, didn't remember that Noire had failed to save her. She had no right to call herself Morgan's older sister.

Still, Morgan had their mother's persistence, and she followed Noire everywhere, wanting to talk to her. Noire didn't fault her, but whenever she looked at Morgan, she was reminded of how weak she was, and she felt like crying and apologizing. Instead, she took to calling out her other self to deal with Morgan, in hopes of getting her little sister scared and leaving. It didn't work, and _Morgan_ took to taking after her, ferocious with a little snarl as she emulated her. Noire was mortified, but she still couldn't find the courage in her to tell her no.

“Should... you not talk to her?” Lucina asked, when they were alone and away from Morgan. If Morgan wasn't shadowing after Noire in hopes of getting her older sister to talk to her, she was either learning from their parents or following Lucina around. Noire was glad that Lucina didn't mind looking after Morgan, and was immensely grateful that Lucina cared for Morgan like another sister. But she knew Lucina wanted her to... talk to Morgan as soon as possible.

“I... I just...” Noire clenched her fists. “How can I face my sister when I couldn't save her in our world? What am I supposed to say?”

“That's why you can protect her in _this_ world!”

“I... I don't have... I won't believe that I won't fail again...” Noire whispered pathetically. Lucina reached out, holding her hand.

“Noire, I know that it's hard. I don't even know what would have happened to me if I lost Kjelle at any point in my life. You told me that I'm amazing for being able to hold myself strong for so long, but it was only because I had Kjelle at my side, and all of your support. I can't even imagine what it must have been like.” Lucina looked at her apologetically before she lowered her eyes.

Lucina was still blaming herself for dragging Noire away, and that made Noire feel even worse. Lucina had enough troubles as it was, and Noire's failures was something she didn't want Lucina to have to worry about. Logically, Noire knew that there nothing they could do at that time, and Noire _knew_ that... but she couldn't help but blame herself every time. It hurt even more knowing that there was absolutely nothing she could have done to save Morgan even if she had fought tooth and nail that day.

“When I look at her... I remember the moment when I leaped through the gate. She wore the robes of the Grimleal, and she was about to kill me. I wanted to think it was a dream, a side-effect of the gate, but I know it was real. I failed my sister in that world, let her become Grimleal, and she was ready to kill me. How can I say that I'll protect her this time?!” Noire pushed back the sob threatening to break out.

“Because _we're_ all here now!” Lucina said firmly. “ _Everyone_ is here now. You're not alone any longer! Your father and mother are here, and Morgan is here and... _we're_ here. We're stronger now. We have the strength to protect those close to us. That's why we came back to the past, wasn't it? For the second chances we could no longer have in our world...”

“That's what I believe," Lucina continued, “Morgan being here, without her memories, is _your_ second chance. Don't get caught up that you failed her in _our_ world. Prove to her, and yourself, that you're the best older sister in the world.”

Noire looked at Lucina incredulously. “Best... older sister in the world?” Lucina turned red and coughed into her hand.

“It was... Morgan. I overheard Kjelle and her arguing and...”

“Really?” Noire felt a tear drop and she swiped at it quickly. Even though Morgan had no memories of her... and Noire was trying to avoid her... Morgan was insisting she was the best, to _Kjelle_ , who idolized Lucina and glared at anyone who spoke wrongly about her sister. “I... I guess... I'll try.” Lucina smiled at her and leaned up to press a kiss to her cheek.

… but that was easier said than done, Noire soon found. Another day, another battle, and it seemed as if _Morgan_ was the one avoiding her now. Whenever Noire went out to seek her sister, Morgan was no where to be found, or busy with something that Noire didn't want to bother her. The frustration was building up in Noire, and she let it out on the Risen they chanced upon on that day.

“Those who dare to trample these flowers must answer to _me!_ Come, step forward and let yourselves be filled with my arrows! I'll not let even a single of you escape my judgment!” Noire cackled as she continued to fire her arrows at the Risen, feeling great satisfaction whenever a shambling corpse went down.

“Jeez, Noire, leave some for me!” Severa said with a groan, twirling her sword with boredom.

“Diligent as always,” Lucina said with approval, smiling to herself. Severa made a face at them, shaking her head. Noire only spared them a glance before turning back to the Risen.

“I do not forgive those who would disturb the peace and bring nothing but suffering and troubles! Let me end your pitiful existences right here!”

“Yes, the Risen are truly nothing but despicable.” Lucina let out a sigh, gripping her sword. “The faster we rid of them, the better this world can become. Noire, Severa! Watch my back!” She dashed forward, easily cutting through the Risen with Falchion.

“Blood and thunder! Do not doubt my skills, my arrows they shall land true in the necks and hearts of our enemies! If you swear to be on the same path as me, then you've no better ally right here!” Noire shouted as she continued shooting. Severa only threw her hands up and followed after Lucina, cutting down the ones Lucina and Noire hadn't gotten to.

But it didn't seem as if Lucina and Severa needed any extra help though, so Noire turned her attention elsewhere, looking for more poor victims. Although since the victims in question were Risen, she felt no sympathy for them, always ready to rid them all.

A movement out of the corner of her eye made her turn around, and she paused, taking aim, shooting down the falcon knight that was circling around. Kjelle turned around, giving her a stiff nod of thanks before running off to join up with her mother. Noire watched her go, making sure there were no other threats to her person, even if she knew Kjelle could take care of herself. She felt she owed it to Lucina to also watch out for her younger sister, but Kjelle was also a comrade who Noire had fought with, even if it seemed like she avoided Noire.

Noire continued to clear out the battle field, shooting arrow after arrow. Even if they were fighting Risen, the atmosphere was... much less tense as she was used to. For one, they actually had a formidable force here, not just the thirteen of them fighting desperately for their life. There were more people to help watch their backs here, and those people were their parents.

Still, some of them sometimes fell into blunder.

“Blood and thunder!” Noire boomed, feeling the arrow fly loose from her hand, smirking as the arrow landed solidly in the Risen's head. Owain picked himself up from where he had tripped onto the ground attempting to do fancy theatrics.

“This hero's thanks!” he shouted. Noire only let out a sigh before she turned her attention elsewhere.

She didn't expect to see a circle of enemies with Morgan in the middle.

The sight of Morgan surrounded by enemies brought forth the very memory Noire tried to forget. Instead of the despair that it induced, it made her other self howl and she gritted her teeth, face twisting into an incarnate of fury.

“To the abyss with you! Dastards, the very sight of you makes my blood boil with rage! You are all nothing but maggots to be crushed! My arrows will be the last sight you see!” Noire screamed, easily shooting down anything in her path. Morgan lunged to the side, gaping up at her.

The Risen were no match to a sister's rage and soon, Morgan was by herself, the Risen that had surrounded her disappearing in a puff of black smoke.

“Whoa... you got them all!” Morgan said with both wonder and amazement. Her expression grew confused when Noire stomped over, shaking her sister.

“You fool! Don't think you can take on so many by yourself!”

“W-what?!” Morgan yelped, looking at her sister confusedly. Her eyes narrowed once she realized what Noire was saying. “I w-was just caught unaware, and I would have been able to handle them anyway!” Morgan yelled back, just as angry. But she withered when Noire remained unflinching, glaring at her. Words failed Morgan and she closed her mouth, head hanging in shame. “S-sorry. I guess I'm not as strong as you.”

All of the anger instantly left Noire. “W-what?”

“I thought... you weren't talking to me because I'm not strong like our parents, or you.”

“Morgan...” Noire said quietly. “It's... not that.”

“Then! Was it something I did, before!? The only memories I have are of Father. I don't even remember Mother! And then my own sister doesn't want to talk to me...” When Morgan brought her head up, her eyes were full of tears. “Did I do something wrong in the past? Is that why you won't talk to me?”

“M-Morgan...” Noire breathed. “I...” Her hands wanted to reach out, to embrace Morgan as she used to, but she couldn't, and they hung uselessly in the air. Morgan gave a sniffle, and Noire knew she couldn't leave her sister like this. She reached forward and pulled Morgan to her, stroking her hair as she used to. “I'm sorry, Morgan. I didn't mean to... push you away. Please don't feel like that... it's... it's my fault... it wasn't yours...”

“What happened to me?” Morgan asked softly. Noire didn't want to tell her, but her sister had every right to know about herself.

“You... we were together, and the Grimleal attacked us. A fire separated us, and I couldn't get to you as the Grimleal tried to take you away. Lucina and Kjelle held me back, but... I wanted... I wanted to help you. You broke free, but instead of coming back to us, you ran away, and the Grimleal followed after you instead.” Noire let out a shaky breath. “I couldn't... I shouldn't... have left you. I should have went after you...”

“Did... you ever find me?”

“... no,” Noire lied. She felt guilty, but it was better for her sister not to know that the last memory Noire had of that world was her own sister trying to kill her. Her sister right now knew nothing of that, and Noire decided to push forward. “Morgan... I couldn't... protect you in the past, and I couldn't face my own mistake.”

 _It's must be why you tried to kill me in the past,_ Noire couldn't help but think.

“If you've.... managed to get this far, then that means you've survived on your own this whole time, without me. You're a lot stronger than I am,” Noire said quietly.

“You know...” Morgan cut in, blinking at her. “Maybe I ran away because I wanted to protect you too.” Noire widened her eyes at her sister's words and pulled away. The confusion was on her face, but Morgan nodded excitedly. “I might have known the Grimleal were after me. I must have not wanted them to come after you! Maybe that's why I ran away, to protect everyone. I want to protect you too! And if you couldn't find me, then that means maybe I was trying to do whatever I could to survive but couldn't reveal myself to you. Like one of Cynthia's stories!” Morgan grinned to herself, but her face fell in the next second, uncertain now. “I don't know... my head hurts if I try to remember it.”

“Morgan... you...” Noire let out a sob and she bent down to hug Morgan tightly to her. “I never thought about how _you_ felt, running away then. I was so focused on my own weakness that I never considered how you must have felt... I'm sorry.” Morgan hesitantly brought her arms up to wrap around her sister.

“I don't really remember what must have happened and I'm only saying this based on how I'm acting right now... but I think that's what I would have done. I think...”

“That's more than enough for me. Y-you don't have to worry about that anymore.” Noire shook her head as she smiled down at Morgan. “You don't have to worry about that... I'm here now. I'm your older sister, I'll be here to protect you now.” She didn't expect Morgan to frown at her, shaking her head.

“But Kjelle always says she wants to protect Lucina all the time! Why can't I do that? I need to show her that I'm better at being a little sister than her!”

“Morgan... you don't... make up competitions with Kjelle. Please don't, for the sake of your safety,” Noire muttered, suddenly feeling she had to keep a closer eye on her sister now.

“Nope! I'm gonna prove to her that you're the best!” Morgan laughed, twirling around. “Thanks for telling me that! I feel a lot better knowing that you don't hate me!”

“I could never hate you, Morgan,” Noire murmured. Morgan stopped laughing, turning to her as she listened. “You're... my sister. I'll always love you.” The giant grin on Morgan's face broke the uneasy expression on Noire's face and even she couldn't help but let out a small smile.

“I love you too, Sis!”

Noire had to force her sobs back down, wiping her tears away. She didn't want to cry in front of her sister, and however inappropriate the timing was, they _were_ still in the middle of battle.

“Morgan, would you like to fight together, for this battle?” Noire offered. She thought it was impossible, but Morgan's eyes sparkled even more.

“Really?! Let's take down everything then!” Morgan threw her head back, cackling. “Foolish Risen! Challenge me, and let my magic take you from this land where you rightfully belong, buried beneath the ground!” Morgan rushed off, magic energy whirling around her in her glee.

“Is... is that what I sound like?” Noire blinked. Sighing to herself, she rushed off to join her sister before she got too in over her head.

After the battle was over, Morgan latched onto Noire's arm, dragging them to where Robin was. When he saw them, his brow shot up but a pleased smile was soon on his face instead. Noire tried not to smile nervously. “Hey Father!” Morgan exclaimed eagerly. “Did you see Sis and me? We were tearing up the battlefield!”

“Were you? I'm afraid I've missed it then.” He reached out to ruffle Morgan's hair affectionately. “Show me at the next battle. I can't have Chrom's family stealing the spotlight all the time!”

“Of course! I need to tell Mother!” She rushed off, leaving father and daughter alone.

“Where... does Morgan get her energy?” Noire said with wonder, blinking at her. Robin reached out to ruffle her hair as well.

“When you're in your other self, you've a lot of energy as well,” he answered with a chuckle. “I'm glad you two made up.”

Noire turned to him, returning his smile. “I'm glad too.”

 

* * *

 

The wind was dry and arid, smelling of something that was too close for comfort to Noire. It was both familiar, in that it reminded her of _home_ , but unfamiliar because she _wasn't_ home. She had to resist looking up in the sky, where there was nothing but a giant shadow that threatened to overtake everything, cover the world in death.

She took a deep breath, focusing on the tree in front of her, several meters off. Staring at it as she nocked her arrow, she aimed carefully, and fired. The arrow lodged into the spot she was aiming at, and she nodded with satisfaction.

“Noire?” Her father's boots crunching on the grass made her turn around to look at him. He gave a low whistle when he saw looked at her arrow. “Good shot!”

Noire's cheeks turned pink with his praise. “Thank you, Father.” Robin smiled at her before he continued speaking.

“I came by to say Lucina was looking for you.”

“A-ah?” Noire let out a polite cough to cover her surprise. “I-I'll go find her.”

“I'll take your bow for you,” Robin said, patting her shoulder as well when he took her bow for her. She thanked him and tried not to flush at his knowing look as she left.

Noire tried very hard not to think about the day when she was finally reunited with everyone. Yarne's ears had fluttered excitedly upon seeing her and soon, Noire was surrounded by all of her friends, faces she didn't know she needed to see right at that moment.

“Jeez, you were about to get yourself _sold_. I always need to take care of you,” Severa said, but her smile took the sting off of her words.

“T-thank you. You're always looking out for me.” Noire couldn't help but laugh.

“Noire.” She turned to find Lucina standing in front of her, with Kjelle behind her. The two of them had left to explain the entire situation to Chrom and had come back now. Kjelle looked at her strangely but Lucina...

“U-um... Lucina?” Noire asked nervously, when the princess continued to stare at her, clenching her fists tightly. Lucina's eyes were a familiar comfort and Noire didn't mind looking into them, but not when Lucina was acting so strangely.

Kjelle gave a grunt then, and pushed Lucina, sending her tumbling into Noire, who quickly wrapped her arms around Lucina to keep them steady. She didn't expect to be grabbed in a bear hug by Lucina, the both of them inhaling sharply.

“Noire... you... we found everyone else, you're the last one. I was... so afraid, I was...” Lucina spoke quietly, shaking. Noire wondered if Lucina had to keep herself from doing this when she was first found, not that circumstances would have allowed her to do so. Noire moved her arms, to better hug Lucina.

“S-sorry, for worrying you.”

Lucina shook her head, the strands brushing against Noire's face. “You don't need to apologize for something like that. I'm just... glad, you're fine. After... everything.”

“... oh.” Noire's mouth formed a thin line, especially when she noticed their friends shifting awkwardly where they stood. She didn't think any of their awkward coughs amounted to Kjelle's heavy stare though.

“Oh? Our children are just as close as us, aren't they?” Noire nearly yelped when Chrom was in front of her, with Robin at his side. And _still_ , Lucina didn't let go, but she let out a mortified squeak as well, hiding her face from them. “I was worried that perhaps we had drifted apart in the future, but if our children remain as close as us, then my fears are unfounded.”

“Close, huh?” Robin said, looking at them thoughtfully.

Noire's face burned every time she remembered that moment. It was a mixed memory, considering she tried to kill her father hours earlier, and Lucina couldn't look at her for several days without her face turning stark red.

But after the initial embarrassment worn off, Noire was completely surprised to discover that Lucina was... very affectionate. She liked brushing her hand against Noire's when they were in passing, or patting her shoulder for no reason whatsoever. It always made her embarrassed, especially when Kjelle saw them.

Noire realized they had never... said anything between them, but with the way Lucina was acting... was there anything that needed to be said? The whole thing seemed embarrassing and she felt that if she asked, it would be another awkward affair that Noire would have to deal with.

She couldn't say she... didn't like the attention Lucina gave her, but she wondered how Lucina felt about the whole thing. Sighing to herself, she hurried off to find where Lucina was.

Noire found Lucina with both Kjelle and Morgan, as if scolding them, with the way she had a hand on her hip and frowned disapprovingly at them.

“Friendly competition and sparring is fine, but _please_ don't involve anything that needs something to be set on fire.”

“It was a bug,” Kjelle muttered and Morgan nodded with sure confidence, as if that made everything better. Lucina sighed deeply, rubbing her head.

“You were only lucky that I was the only one who came on the scene. If it were Mother...” Lucina let her sentence hang. Both Kjelle and Morgan froze up, and Morgan quickly apologized, though Kjelle looked more ashamed of herself. She looked as if she was going to say more, until her gaze drifted to where Noire was, watching them with mild amusement.

“Sis!” Morgan went over to her, clearly intending to use her to run from Lucina's scolding. “You came just in time!” She whispered so Lucina couldn't hear.

“Morgan...” Noire wanted to push her back to Lucina, but the hopeful and bright look on her face made her lose her resolve. “Whatever Lucina was scolding you for, don't do it again, okay?”

“But it was a bug flying straight for us, and it would have landed on Kjelle! And you know, she doesn't like–”

“Stop telling everyone!” Kjelle quickly snapped, narrowing her eyes at Morgan.

“That doesn't mean you can set the table on fire,” Lucina pointed out with a frown.

“Collateral damage! You understand, right, Lucina?” The look on Morgan's face could only be described as cheeky, and Lucina began to sputter in embarrassment.

“I only barely replaced the training dummy the other day,” Kjelle muttered at that same time, shaking her head.

“... I get it! Just don't do it again,” Lucina said with a sigh. Kjelle nodded at her and walked away, but Noire saw her sigh in relief. Morgan grinned at them.

“Awesome! Anyway, I'll leave you two alone now.” She winked at them, and Noire had to fight the rising blush down as she watched her sister speed off to catch up with Kjelle.

“Um.” Noire looked at Lucina. “My father said you were looking for me?”

“Oh!” Lucina's eyes brightened. “I was, until I ran into Kjelle and Morgan.” She scratched the back of her neck sheepishly. “Do you have time to spare right now?”

“Of course. I always have time to spare for you.” Noire didn't realize what she had said until the words came out, and her face reddened with realization. Lucina cleared her throat, but her face was just as red.

“T-then, let's find some place private,” Lucina murmured, reaching behind her to grab Noire's hand, leading them away.

Thankfully, they didn't run into anyone else and they reached a spot that was far enough away from camp for privacy but still close enough to see the camp if anything happened. Lucina released her hand and sat down, patting the ground next to her. Noire slowly lowered herself, fidgeting, until Lucina reached out to touch her hand.

“Are you afraid?” Lucina asked, her voice quiet. Noire couldn't help the quick glance to the sky, dark and ominous. She gulped loudly and turned her eyes away before she felt sick.

“A-a little. Are you?”

“Of course.” Lucina's voice turned wistful. “It's strange... the culmination of everything we've been through is in the sky, and we still have the possibility of failing.” Noire didn't want to think about what would happen if they couldn't overcome tomorrow. It seemed... so unfair and it made her angry to even think that not being able to stop Grima was still a possibility. Lucina's hand held hers gently.

“Don't worry. Failing is the last thing I want us to do. I have all the hope in the world to know that tomorrow... we can succeed, and we will. We just need to believe in ourselves and everyone to pull us through.”

Noire smiled at her words. Lucina had a way with her words that could inspire hope in her, make her believe that she could do anything.

“Victory is still within sight,” Noire murmured. Lucina chuckled but said nothing. After several moments, she pulled closer, resting her head upon Noire's shoulder, moving her hand to hold Noire's arm instead. It was comfortable, Noire had to admit as she rested her head atop of Lucina's.

“Say... Lucina, what are you planning on doing... after?” Noire asked softly.

“Hm?”

“After... everything.” Lucina glanced at her, pushing her lips together before answering.

“I'll disappear. The world does not need two Lucinas.” She answered simply. “I am Lucina, but I am not _this_ world's Lucina.”

“... ah?” Noire clearly _wasn't_ expecting that answer, but at the same time, it made so much sense. What was Noire going to do after they defeated Grima? She didn't really have any dreams she wanted to achieve like their friends. “But disappearing like that... it sounds a little sad and lonely.”

“... it does.” Lucina murmured. “But we've altered enough of this world as we did. With Grima's defeat though, I am content to live out the rest of my life in relative obscurity, for the sake of myself here.”

It still sounded... so _lonely_ , especially for someone like Lucina. Noire wanted to say something but there were no words that came to her.

“What do you plan to do, Noire?” Lucina returned her question, looking at her curiously. Noire wanted to say the same thing, but for some reason, she stopped, blinking down at her. Maybe stay with her parents? But that sounded strange and though she missed them so much, she wanted to grow as her own person away from them. She gave a low hum, trying to think as she looked out ahead of them, toward the fields strewn ahead of them.

 _Ah._ Noire thought then, a memory coming to her. It made her smile widely, and Lucina's look turned slightly bewildered.

“Hey... Lucina... do you remember...” Noire looked down at their hands, running her thumb along Lucina's. “This world might not be as empty as it is in our world... but it would be nice to have some more flowers, wouldn't it?”

It took Lucina several moments, but the surprised and undignified sound she let out made Noire laugh. Lucina moved in front of her, hands on either side of Noire as she leaned in excitedly, eyes sparkling. It was a sight, to see _Lucina_ so delighted beyond reason.

“Truly?!”

“Yes.” She was greeted to Lucina's grinning face and found herself on her back suddenly when Lucina lunged forward, face buried in Noire's shoulder as she laughed. Though her back ached from the sudden fall, it was only a mild distraction to the glee radiating off of Lucina. “I'm... tired of being sad all the time,” Noire said. “There is too much sadness in this world. If there were a way for people to be happy... even if only a little... I want to do it.”

“I believe the same,” Lucina said with a nod, “we'll defeat Grima.”

“We _have_ to,” Noire whispered. They were quiet again, though after everything that transpired, Noire felt it more pleasant than foreboding. Lucina was fidgeting though, and Noire had to try to not giggle at the hairs tickling her neck.

“Do... you mind if we go to Plegia first?” Lucina suddenly asked, her voice soft. “I want to start in Plegia.”

“P-Plegia?” Noire mumbled. “Why Plegia?” If Noire thought about it, she was technically Plegian, as her father's identity was no longer a mystery anymore, but she had lived in Ylisse her whole life, and Ylisse was the only home she had known.

Lucina lifted herself up, staring down at Noire. “When I came back to the future, I wanted to..." Lucina's face was pained as she spoke, "prevent... Aunt Emmeryn's death. I stopped the first attempt, but fate was still cruel enough to rob her from my father and Ylisse. I began to think to myself that there was no point for us to come back in time, that maybe it had been one giant gamble and we lost. But the Plegians were willing to lay down their arms and would have surrendered, were it not for Gangrel's insistence for bloodshed.”

“I realized that though Aunt Emmeryn was still killed, her ideals still managed to reach everyone, and she hadn't truly died in vain. I wish... I could have met her.” Lucina turned away, letting out another sigh.

Noire raised her hands to Lucina's face, stroking it gently. “I... I'm sure... she would have loved you,” Noire said softly, confidently. Lucina blinked at her, as if disbelieving. She smiled at her then, moving down, pressing her forehead against Noire's. She could feel Lucina's tears dripping onto her face and tried not to let her own fall.

“Thank you,” Lucina mumbled, over and over again. “Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

 

The back of Grima felt _familiar,_ like something warm.

Noire felt both disgusted and nostalgic. It made her want to close her eyes and let the sensation sink into her. At the same time, Grima's aura threatened to overtake her, choke her, drown her with its darkness. Her other side bubbled underneath, wanting release, to lay blood to all of her enemies. She wasn't sure if she would stop at enemies.

But Mother, Father, and Morgan were in front of her now. She had them here. All she had to do was look at them and remember that everything she fought for, lived for, was in front of her. Even if her parents weren't the same that she knew, and even if Morgan never regained her memories, this was her family now.

The Risen came in endless waves, and she didn't know how many arrows she had fired, only that she had already run out of arrows for on quiver. She tossed the empty quiver away, already firing from her spare quiver.

“To your left, Noire!” Reacting on instinct, she threw herself to the ground, feeling the air above her move. An unearthly screech of a wyvern answered her question and she scrambled to shoot the Risen down.

“Time to tip the scales!” Morgan shouted gleefully as she let loose a bolt of thunder, zapping the wyvern rider into a puff of smoke. “I got it!”

“Thank you!” Noire shouted as she scrambled upright. Morgan gave her a bow before rushing off to join their mother. Noire took another deep breath, trying to steady herself. There was a firm hand on her shoulder, and Noire saw the telltale purple first. Kjelle's face was blank as she allowed Noire to lean against her shoulder, catching her breath.

“T-Thank you,” Noire mumbled, sighing softly.

“... no problem,” Kjelle muttered, eyes scanning around. There weren't any immediate Risen heading straight for them, though the portals where they were coming from began to glow again. “Look, I'll make this quick. You're important to Lucina, don't do anything stupid like–”

“What?!” Noire didn't even know her voice would rise so high, staring at Kjelle with what had to be the reddest face she ever had.

“I said–” Kjelle inhaled sharply and turned around abruptly, planting her feet as firmly as she could on Grima's scales before the axe crashed into her shield with a loud clang. She grunted but held her ground, pushing the Risen away. She thrust her lance out but the Risen had already leaped back – and collapsed, an arrow in its head and another one where its heart was.

“... thank you,” Kjelle said, giving her a nod. Noire hesitantly returned it, wondering what Kjelle was going to do next. Instead, Kjelle turned her head, to where the army was slowly advancing forward to Grima's nape. “Shouldn't... you be getting up there? Where your father is.”

“My father?” Noire blinked at her. “I was assigned to watch the back. And what sort of archer stays near the front?”

“... jeez, you're so thickheaded,” Kjelle muttered, and Noire couldn't help but side-eye her. “I know. In order to get rid of Grima, it's either gonna be either my father or yours. And if it's your father...” Kjelle trailed off, shifting uncomfortably where she stood.

Noire blinked rapidly. Of all the things for Kjelle to say... it made sense, and Noire _had_ been secretly distraught that she had been assigned to the back, but it made sense for her to be back here.

“W-what?” Kjelle's voice was defensive, frowning at her. Noire only laughed softly.

“Nothing... well... I guess I didn't expect you to say something like that.” Maybe having to face the reality that what they were doing right now were loosening their tongues, though Noire doubted that being on the back of _Grima_ was the best place to do it.

“To be honest, I still don't know how to feel about you... you're frail and I don't talk to you, but you're someone who's been fighting on my side from the start.”

“... thanks, I think.”

“But... you're not as bad as I thought.” Kjelle let out a frustrated sigh. “Look, just...” She waved her hand. “I'll cover you, go get to your father.”

Noire took a moment to register what Kjelle was doing, and she smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Kjelle. I'm in your debt.” Noire swiped at her eyes and Kjelle quickly turned back around with a small grunt. Noire gathered her energy and took off, racing for the top of Grima, where her father was.

Noire immediately felt her stomach turning as she saw _him_. He looked exactly like the army tactician standing several feet away, but Noire recognized that scar on his cheek, from when she was still learning the bow and accidentally fired in his direction. His features were twisted cruelly, in a sad imitation of what he used to be. When he looked at her, there was no recognition in his eyes.

Her father laughed manically, taunting them all with words of doom, and the portals rumbled as more Risen were summoned.

 _Because of you... so many people died... everyone..._ Noire gritted her teeth and though the surge of anger made her want to run to her father, she held, knowing that he was no longer the father she knew, the father she loved. He would strike her down with no hesitation at this point. She choked back a sob, feeling suddenly drained of energy.

“Noire.” Lucina's voice shot through her mind and soon, she felt the familiar accompaniment of her fingers threading through her own. “Hope will never die,” Lucina only said, nodding confidently. Noire could do nothing but squeeze back, not trusting her voice right now.

“Noire!” Robin stopped next to her, a hand on her shoulder. His face was drawn and regretful. “So that's the real future me, huh... I'm sorry that the future me turned out to be this way.” Grima roared at that moment and though Noire no longer flinched, Robin did, his face becoming even more tense. “I love you. I love your mother, your sister, our family, and this world will be a happy world you two will grow up in.”

He smiled then, and his smile was so gentle, so _nostalgic_ that tears slid down her cheeks. At the sight of her tears, his smile turned embarrassed and he let out an awkward laugh. He cupped her face and kissed her forehead. “Know that I will always be proud of you, for everything you've endured, for everything you've done. Now, let your father be the one to take care of you for once!” He looked over at Lucina, reaching out to hold her shoulder firmly. “Take care of each other,” he said before moving in to hug Noire one last time.

“Goodbye, Father,” she whispered in his ear, and he pulled away, a proud smile on his face. Noire watched his back as he turned around, feeling a deep pang in her chest as she did so. It used to be so big and she always felt sadness at seeing it, because it meant he was leaving for the capital again, and it was the last image she had of her real father, his tired back as he left for the Dragon's Table with Exalt Chrom. Now though, it was strong and upright. It was a glorious sight and Noire couldn't ask for one any better.

Noire helped clear his path, arrows flying from her bow nearly nonstop as she fired down any threat, watching her father fight his way to where Chrom was already waiting at Grima's neck. Even when her fingers began to sting and it was only years of training with the bow that kept her hands from bleeding now, she continued to shoot arrow after arrow. Lucina swiftly cut down any Risen close to them, keeping a careful eye on both Noire and their fathers, grip on Falchion as hard as her stare. When they finally had a brief respite, the two of them held their breath as they both stared ahead where their fathers were.

Lucina knew her father would do anything he could to stop his best friend. Noire knew that her father would never forgive himself if he left things unfinished like this.

Grima roared, and though Chrom rushed forward, Robin was faster, his magic springing forth from his hands and darting out past Chrom.

Grima gave one final roar and Noire was sure she would never get his howl of agony and madness out of her mind. His Avatar remained though, standing, eerily quiet. When his eyes roamed over them before finally falling on her, Noire understood it then.

Noire scrambled up the Fell Dragon, ignoring Lucina's shout, heart pounding wildly. She stopped right before she reached him, staring at him through her tears. Though his eyes were still tinged red from Grima's control, his eyes flickered. He raised his hand toward her and smiled, sad and pained. He closed his eyes and faded away. Noire closed her eyes in silent prayer.

Robin watched his other self disappear, his expression unreadable. He turned around then, to look at his friend. Chrom's face was sorrowful, with his hand outstretched toward Robin but he let it fall to his side, solemnly watching his friend. Robin only gave him a grin before he turned to his family.

This time, Tharja didn't sink to the ground, cursing the world as Noire remembered. She had a smirk on her face, shouting she'd hex him forever into the afterlife if he never came back. Robin laughed at her, even as the rest of his body turned even more ephemeral. Morgan came to hold Noire's hand, staring with such a serious expression that unsuited her little sister.

Noire reached down and moved her sister's cheeks upward. “We should be seeing him off with a smile, so he can remember them until he comes back.” Morgan blinked up at her, before turning her head back. She beamed at her father, tears streaming down her face as she waved enthusiastically.

“You still have so much more to teach me, Father! Hurry up and come back!” Morgan screamed, gripping Noire's hand tightly.

Noire looked up at the fading image of her father and smiled, looking forward to the day she would see him again.

**Author's Note:**

> This started as 'hey I think Lucina/Noire would be kind of cute' and then it spiraled out of control when the next thought was 'I think it'd be even more interesting if Robin was Noire's father' but I think any of of the second gen characters who have Robin as a parent have some sort of special relationship to Lucina.


End file.
